Two Years Later
by Nicbearosaurus
Summary: Two years ago Kurt's boyfriend was kidnapped and supposedly murdered. Two years ago Blaine was ripped away and brainwashed into believing his captor loved him. It's two years later and they've been reunited, but it's not everything they imagined it'd be.
1. Chapter 1: Zero Tolerance

**Two Years Later**

**Summary**: Two years ago Kurt's boyfriend was kidnapped and supposedly murdered. Two years ago Blaine was ripped away and brainwashed into believing his captor loved him. Its two years later and they've been reunited, but it's not everything they imagined it would be.

**Disclaimer**: This disclaimer applies to all chapters of this story. I, most certainly and unfortunately, do not own Glee or anything affiliated.

**Warning**: There will be violence in this story and like some of my previous works it will have mentions of non-con. However it is rated T (not M) and therefore none of the non-con mentions will be graphic and swearing will be kept to a minimal as per the site's guidelines.

**A/N**: Another product of my dark mind, I started writing this before Season 3 started and therefore it takes place before the school year starts and nothing that happened in Season 3, happens in this story. Everything canon that happened in Seasons 1 & 2 however, still applies. Also note that this story (and its chapters) will not be nearly as long as Fallout.

Also the family I've written for Blaine is pretty much identical, although I've added another member or two, to how it is in my one-shot "Now You Know" (and therefore vastly different from the family written for him in "Fallout". You will be introduced to Leo Anderson, Joey Anderson, Brianna Anderson and Bianca Anderson sometime during this story.

Dates in _Italics_ are in the past focussing on Blaine.

Dates in **Bold **are in the past focussing on Kurt (not in this chapter).

Dates in regular text are scenes from the main Klaine part of the story.

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><p>Chapter 1: Zero Tolerance<p>

_August 2011_

Blaine stood outside the restaurant and plucked his phone from his pocket with a sigh, before dialling his brother's phone number.

His parents had insisted he get a proper summer job, to teach him work ethic. Well if that was their intention, it'd worked. He'd been forced to stay late at work _yet again_ because it was busy, one of the other waiters had called in sick and he'd been too polite to say no. He'd also managed to just miss the last bus.

Unfortunately for him his gig at Six Flags hadn't quite panned out, although working locally had allowed him to spend more time with Kurt. It just sucked that he ended up being a waiter at a singing restaurant of all places. Well, at least it was over now.

The other end of the phone picked up and he heard distant laughing over the line, before his brother's deep voice came over the phone in an abrupt yet amused voice (his brother's favourite tone), "Why are you bothering me Blainers?"

"You have my car, _again_," Blaine reminded him through the tinny phone. "I missed the bus and need a ride home from work, so you need to come get me."

"No can do Blainers," Joey's voice teased him, "I'm much, _much_ too busy playing video games to do that. This is my vacation," his brother stretched out the word, "so I'm not going to spend it being your chauffeur. You understand. Walk, it'll be good for you." He heard chuckling on the other end and found his nerves starting to fray at his older brother.

"No I don't understand," he growled into the phone, "It's late. It's getting dark and it'll take me at least thirty minutes to walk home-"

"Aww Blainers is afraid of the dark," Joey made a mock 'awing' sound at him through the phone. "Does ickle Blainers need his big brother to pick him up so he doesn't get scared-ed?"

"Shut up Joey," Blaine snarled at him impatiently. "Just come get me. It's my car after all."

"Don't get so pissy," Joey muttered at him, and he heard laughing again. "Call your boyfriend. I bet he's dying to give you a ride."

More raucous laughter came at the innuendo and Blaine felt his chest tighten. He knew Joey didn't really have a problem with him being gay, but those comments always got to him. Joey didn't know it because he'd never, ever admit it, but they _hurt._ "You know what Joey, screw you. You're an asshole and a shitty brother."

"Aw Blainers don't get mad-" he hung up the phone before his brother could finish and let out a growl. He dug into his pockets and let out a sigh. He definitely didn't make enough in tips to get a cab home and he'd long ago learned to never bring money in with him to work. It would just get stolen by the end of his shift.

Hell today someone had stolen the lunch he packed since the restaurant refused to give out any free food at all. He took relief in that fact that today had been his last day and he didn't have to go in anymore.

He'd somehow managed to convince his parents that he needed a least a couple weeks of real vacation time.

He shook his head and started walking. He would have called Kurt, except it was Friday and it was the Hummel-Hudson family dinner night. Something told him Kurt wouldn't be too pleased with him if he called him just for a ride home.

His boyfriend took those dinners seriously. He didn't blame him either once Kurt had explained the last time he planned to miss a family dinner his father had a heart attack.

Blaine shot a look towards the fading sun and let out a sigh as he trudged down the sidewalk in his work clothes. At least the walk would give him time to think. He'd been doing a lot of that lately, thinking; especially since Kurt was continually trying to convince him to transfer to McKinley for his junior year.

He'd made the decision weeks ago really, before Kurt had even brought it up. He was going to transfer to William McKinley High, a public school with a harassment policy that wasn't exactly enforced, from his highly rated private school, Dalton, which had a zero-tolerance policy. He was going to do it. He wasn't going to run away from it anymore. Dalton wasn't the real world and he figured it was about time he joined it.

The real world unfortunately didn't have a zero-tolerance harassment tolerance. It was about time he got used to it.

The only reason he hadn't told anyone about his decision yet, other than his sister, was because he wanted to surprise Kurt. He couldn't wait to see the look on the other boy's face when he strode into the public school to meet him. The very thought made his chest swell in excitement.

There was anxiety too however. He remembered how things had been in his old school, Elida High and how the people at McKinley were somewhat homophobic. He definitely remembered what had happened to Kurt during their prom.

There was also his sister. She was small and shy and totally against going to a private high school, or Elida for that matter, and was therefore destined to join McKinley too; because of him. She wanted to be closed to him, not that he minded.

Brianna was pretty much his best friend, which almost made up for his shitty relationship with his brother.

He bit down on his lip as he slipped between two buildings into the alley (a shortcut he usually only hazarded during daylight hours) several blocks from his house. Being at McKinley was going to take some getting used to, but he knew Kurt and the New Directions would do their best to make his (and hopefully his sister's too) transition as easy as possible.

He stuck his hands in his pocket as he stepped down the alley, his eyes flittering around for safety. It was pretty dark and he listened intently. One could never be too careful. He'd learned that hard way at Elida.

His stomach churned slightly and he frowned, sending his tongue over his lips nervously. He was starting to wish he'd been a little more insistent when he called his brother for a ride home.

Stupid Joey had to leave his car in stupid California and take his whenever he wanted during the summer. It was getting a little ridiculous, especially since the other boy wouldn't even give him a ride home when he had his car.

So now he was here, in this dark alley way while his eyes darted around carefully. He hadn't heard or seen anything, but for some reason he felt his muscles tense up despite himself. Something's wrong, the little voice in his head told him as the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He fought the voice, keeping his pace as calm and steady as possible. So far nothing had made him think anything was wrong. He was just overreacting at being in an unfamiliar place in a dark alley.

That's when he heard the quiet footsteps. He froze for a moment, listening, trying to figure out where they were coming from. He started walking again when the footsteps behind him stopped and shoved his hands deep into his pockets, hunching his shoulders.

As soon as he started moving again, the footsteps started back up.

_You should have listened to me_, the voice in his head mocked him; _you better get moving._

He quickened his pace slightly after a quick glance over his shoulder. Nothing was there that he could see, but he didn't slow down. There was no such thing as being too careful.

There was such a thing as not being careful enough. A hand gripped his shoulder suddenly and whipped him around before shoving him back against the brick wall of one of the buildings. "Hey!" He shouted, earning him a swift backhand to the side of his face that knocked his head back into the brick wall of the alleyway.

Pain stung at his cheek and rocketed through his skull, and he pressed himself against the wall in a vain attempt to make himself invisible. His fists clenched tightly as he waited for the right moment to strike out and make his escape.

If this was some kind of homophobe he wasn't going just to sit back and take it.

A hand curled into the fabric of his shirt near the shoulder and held him firmly in place. "Shut up kid," a growling voice ordered him roughly and suddenly something cool and hard was pushed up under his chin.

His entire body froze as his eyes moved down to take a look at the object pressing into his tender flesh. He could just make out part of the outline of a black gun; some kind of pistol that was pressed painfully against him, twisting his skin. His fists unclenched, the fight draining from him as slowly and carefully he brought his eyes up to the man's covered face. There was a baklava covering everything but the man's mouth and light coloured eyes.

This definitely didn't feel like a random homophobe wanting to beat him up in an alleyway. It felt darker and somehow more violent; most likely due to knowing what that gun could do to him right now as it held his jaw painfully shut.

The man stared at him hard for a moment, as if thinking of what to do with him, before the hand on his shoulder pulled him away from the wall again and pushed him forward before gripping the back of his neck tightly. "Come on, let's go."

He stumbled. "Where are-"

He was cut off as the gun jabbed into the small of his back followed by a curt, "I said shut up. Move it."

He could hear faint sirens in the distance as the man's hand on his neck gripped harder. The man pushed him out the other side of the alley towards an old rusted grey car that was parked on the side of the road. He was slammed hard against it as he heard the door being yanked open.

Without a moment's warning he was shoved inside. He fell onto his stomach onto the beige leather seating and felt something land with a light thump onto his back. He scrambled into a sitting position as the door slammed and the dark green backpack that had been thrown in on him slipped to the car's floor.

His first instinct was to grab for the door handle, but it wouldn't budge. He threw himself towards the other side and tried again, but the door was unrelenting no matter how much he tried to get it open. Child safety locks had never seemed more unsafe to him before as they did at that moment.

'_Stupid Joey for taking his stupid car'_, he cursed inwardly, '_Stupid me for not calling Kurt for a ride.' _His breathing turned shallow and he twisted his neck to let his eyes watch the man who was kidnapping him.

Heart pounding he watched in silence as the front door of the car opened and the man scrambled inside before closing the door and starting the car. The man pulled out so quickly he was thrown back and to the side. His hands were shaking badly, but something told him it would be a good idea to buckle his seatbelt. He did so, despite that it took him several tries to secure the buckle due to the extent of his trembling.

Cursing internally wasn't getting anywhere so he ventured to speak up softly, "E-excuse me-"

"Didn't I tell you to shut up kid?" The man asked with a growl, his eyes flickering to the rear window to look at him.

"Please," he whispered, pushing his hands into his thighs nervously, "I'm sorry. I just- I just want to know what's going on and- and go home."

"Well you're not going home, that's for sure," the man snapped at him, pulling a sharp turn. "But I'll tell you what's what if you promise to shut up."

He nodded his head quickly, opening his mouth only to whisper quietly, "I promise."

He saw the man's eyes flicker to look at him through the rear view mirror before explaining in a low, rough voice, "I need a hostage and you were at the wrong place at the wrong time. Now shut your face before I decide to shut it for you." The man's voice became somewhat calmer, "Look, if you do what I tell you, I'll let you go once I don't need you anymore, understand?"

He nodded his head cautiously, not vocalizing this time in fear of angering the guy anymore and willing himself to believe the man was telling the truth.

He took a few deep breaths and used his hands to clutch his knees tightly. He sincerely hoped this man didn't need a hostage for long. He didn't know how long his heart could keep beating at such an accelerated pace before it gave out.

Yeah, the world definitely didn't have a zero-tolerance harassment policy. Apparently it didn't have a zero-tolerance kidnapping policy either- at least not one that was enforced.

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><p>September 2013<p>

Blaine bumped into the man purposefully, his fingers acting nimbly and undetected, before apologizing profusely with a small smile on his face. Almost immediately he went on his way, before turning a corner and walking straight into Pierre. He lowered his head submissively and immediately held out the wallet.

"Pickpocketing still are we, Blainey?" Pierre asked him with a soft laugh. "When will you ever learn that that is the weak man's way of making money? You're supposed to move up to bigger and better things." He cuffed the nineteen year old boy over the head.

Blaine kept his head down, not mentioning that Pierre had screwed up the ransom drop two years before. He never dared to mention it. He valued his life too much for that. "I'm sorry," he mumbled softly, "I-I just can't hurt anyone. Besides it's pretty much the same profit as mugging someone- it's just, less scary for them, right?"

"That boy," Pierre ignored Blaine's stuttered explanation and pointed out a fashionably dressed man around Blaine's age, one who was obviously not without money by the state of his clothing. He only caught a glimpse of the backside of the man as he ducked into an alley way as Pierre continued speaking, "Take this and go in there after him." He pushed a serrated knife into Blaine's hand. "You're going to take his money and anything valuable he might have on him, do you understand me?"

He swallowed thickly and nodded, before quickly following the man into the alley. He always hated it when Pierre directly ordered him to mug somebody. He could never disobey a direct order from the man; it only meant pain- or possibly death.

He grabbed the slight man by the back of the neck, pushing him into the wall and pressing the knife against his ribs. If he didn't see the fear in the guy's face, then maybe he wouldn't feel so bad. He forced his voice to be low and gravelly, "Give me your money; all of it and that fancy watch of yours."

The man fumbled for his wallet and opened it and Blaine frowned, asking roughly, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Please," a high, soft, much too familiar voice begged him desperately, "It's just a photograph. Take whatever you want but please, just let me keep the photo."

"Pass it back now," he said in a much quieter, softer voice, the familiarity of the man's voice had piqued his curiosity, and his fear.

The man didn't turn his head, just gave a soft whimper and passed the wallet back. Open in the wallet laid a photo worn by constant folding and unfolding of two teenage boys hugging each other and wearing navy blazers with red trim all while grinning goofily into the camera.

The picture fluttered to the ground as the wallet dropped. Blaine whipped his victim around and took in the familiar face. His mouth dropped open softly and the knife slipped from his fingers in shock. "Of all the people in New York," Blaine whispered in a quiet voice, "It had to be you."

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><p><strong>AN**: Well that's the first chapter. I'll be updating this story on Fridays. I'm also working on another story that I'll be starting to post soon called "Desperate Measures" but I'm waiting until I have a few more chapters ready before I post. I wasn't actually going to start posting this story right away, but I figured since it's pre-Season 3 I should post it before Season 3 ends.

I'm sorry for the previous errors. They aren't in my original document on my computer, but I had some trouble with the document uploader so I'm assuming it dropped some words from the document. I've since gone back and corrected all the ones I've noticed.

Please leave me a review. They're much appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2: No Choice

**Summary**: Two years ago Kurt's boyfriend was kidnapped and supposedly murdered. Two years ago Blaine was ripped away and brainwashed into believing his captor loved him. Its two years later and they've been reunited, but it's not everything they imagined it would be.

**Warning:** Mentions of non-con.

**A/N**: So I decided that while I still have the time and because some of these chapters (like chapter 3 for instance) are shorter than what I usually post I'm going to post two chapters a week for the first five weeks of this story. After that depending on how busy I am and how much more I've gotten written it may decrease to once a week or stay at twice. For now I'll be posting both on Fridays and Tuesdays. Enjoy!

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><p>Chapter 2: No Choice<p>

_August 2011_

The man pulled the car into a gravel driveway in front of a derelict looking house. The worn wooden shutters were hanging off the windows and the yellowing white paint was peeling from the outer walls.

Slowly Blaine unbuckled his seatbelt, his stomach churning uncomfortably, and watched in silence as the man got out of the car. He rubbed up and down his arms to ease his gooseflesh as his eyes followed his kidnapper who circled around to the back of the car to pull one of the doors open. "The backpack, hand it over."

With a thick swallow Blaine reached down to where the bag had fallen and passed it over with shaking hands. The man threw it over one shoulder, before reaching in and taking a painfully tight grip on his wrist and yanking on it.

He scrambled forward to relieve the pulling and desperately tried to find his feet as he was wrenched out of the vehicle. The man kicked the door to the car shut and slammed him up against the car, twisting Blaine's arm up behind his back until it pulled painfully on his shoulder. The hand holding the gun immediately twisted into the back of his shirt near the opposite shoulder so the cold metal pressed against the side of his neck.

He was pulled back from the car and pushed roughly up the drive, his feet tripping and stumbling, but each time he started to fall the grip on his wrist yanked him back. The same grip pressed him up against the door harshly, the hand on his shoulder leaving for a mere moment to unlock the door.

If the outside had looked run down, it was nothing compared to the inside of the house. As he staggered inside he noticed the wallpaper was peeling worse than the house siding and the floors were bare and dirty. That didn't even take into account that there was no furniture to speak of inside it apart from a few old wooden chairs and a rickety table.

The man closed the door behind them with a kick and took his hands off Blaine for a moment to lock the door before tucking the gun into the front of his pants. He stood purposefully in the way of the exit as Blaine looked around the house without moving, his body tense and unsure what he was supposed to do now.

His first thought was to charge at the man, to push him out of the way and get out of the house, but he couldn't help but wonder what the man would do if he caught up to him. If he could just figure out where the back door was maybe he'd have a chance. Or maybe if he could get one well aimed punch in before the man could get his hands back on his gun, but he'd need a knockout or at least a chance to grab for the gun himself.

Despite all the escape possibilities running through his head, something kept his feet glued where they were on the floor.

A movement from his kidnapper gathered his attention and he turned his head to stare at him. The man was pawing through the backpack and looked annoyed at what he found inside it.

Blaine's eyes flickered towards the door behind him and the man stopped, before stepping towards him.

Blaine took a nervous step back, his feet finally ungluing from the floor, but the older man still managed to easily grab him by the front of his shirt and pushed him in front of one of the wooden chairs. Two hands pushed down hard on his shoulders, "Sit."

He didn't argue, he didn't try to run and he definitely didn't try to punch him or grab for the gun. Fear set into his limbs again, numbing them and forcing his obedience. He let himself be pushed roughly into the chair. Compliance somehow felt like his best chance. The man _had _promised to let him go eventually if he did as he was told.

The man picked up a roll of a duct tape from the floor and tossed it at him and he automatically caught in his hands.

"Tape your legs to the chair," the man said in a stiff voice.

He stared back at him for a long moment of hesitation until the man's hand reached down for the gun. Leaning down immediately at the motion he started binding his own ankles to the legs of the wooden chair with the silver tape. He looked up nervously, swallowing the painful lump in his throat and waiting for his next instruction.

There was none. Instead the man pulled the gun from him pants and put it down on the floor out of his reach and stepped forward to pluck the roll of tape from his hands. "You're doing okay so far kid. You might just get out of this alive." The man let out a soft chuckle, sounding much more at ease now that there was little chance that Blaine could try to run away. He started winding the tape around his waist and the back of the chair, further diminishing the teenager's chances of escape. The close proximity between them also sending tension into Blaine's muscles as his stomach knotted even further. Then he grabbed the boy's wrists tightly, before taping them behind his back while Blaine shifted anxiously, but didn't dare try to jerk his hands away.

Once the man was done he took a step back and surveyed his work, "So kid, what's your name?"

His chest uncomfortably tight as he lightly -and vainly- tugged at his wrists, he answered in a quiet voice, "Blaine."

"Blaine, huh?" The masked man let out a chuckle, "Well Blaine, you can call me Cal for the time being. S'not my real name, but doesn't matter, now does it?"

Blaine shook his head, "I-I guess not." He paused for a quiet moment. Cal didn't seem to mind him talking now so he asked hesitantly, "W-why are you running from the police?"

Cal seemed to think about it for a moment, before answering with a little shrug, "Just robbed a store. I didn't exactly expect the police to start chasing me as soon as they did, so when I saw you, I thanked my lucky stars." He shrugged again. "Turns out you weren't as necessary as I thought, but you could still come in handy."

He writhed a little against the tape, the man's tone making him feel suddenly uncomfortable.

The man pulled up a chair in front of him, sitting on it backwards and let out a small smile, "So Blaine, you got yourself a girlfriend?"

Blaine shook his head. "No." He wasn't about to bring up Kurt or his sexuality either. If Cal was homophobic at all it could diminish his likelihood of being eventually released significantly and considering it was Ohio, well the odds weren't exactly on his side.

"Got a last name?" The man asked next, sounding amused.

"Anderson," he answered in an honest whisper.

"Anderson?" The man seemed thoughtful for a moment, before smirking. "Well Blaine Anderson, your parents got money?"

"Um," he paused for a moment and looked away. "I guess so yeah, but- but you said once you didn't need me you'd let me go." He waited a moment before saying timidly, "I doubt anyone will find you now, right? So- so you could let me go."

"Money, kid; it's all about money." Cal shrugged his shoulders, adding, "Besides I can't just let you walk out of here and lead the cops right to me. Once I'm ready to skip town I'll probably drop you off in some deserted place and let you find your way home, or leave you here and tell your parents where to find you. In the meantime I might as well make a little cash off you."

He swallowed thickly. "But I thought you just robbed some place?"

The man gave a low, dark chuckle. "Let's just say I didn't get as much as I expected." Cal stood and slipped a hand in Blaine's pocket, making him grimace as it pulled out his cell phone. Cal scrolled through the contacts, before smiling softly and scribbling down a number on his hand. Then he dropped the phone on the floor and stomped on it hard, crushing it. "We're going to give Mommy and Daddy a day or so to realize you're gone, let 'em worry a little bit and then we're going to give them a call, okay?"

Blaine let out another grimace. He didn't want to wait. He wanted to go home _now_, but he definitely wasn't in the position to argue, "I- okay."

"Now, how much do you think you're worth Blaine Anderson?" Cal asked, sitting back down across from him and resting his arms on the back of the chair. "How much money will Mommy and Daddy be willing to part with to get their Blainey-boy back, do you think?"

He swallowed. "I-I don't know." He bit down hard on his lips as he tried to form an answer. "I-I never really, um, thought about it."

The man seemed to ponder this for a long moment, before asking, "What's your dad's name?"

"Leo Anderson," he answered in a quiet voice, shifting uncomfortably again in the wooden chair.

"Alright, shut up," the man growled, pulling out his cell phone and dialling a number. This time when he spoke, his voice was strangely deliberate. "Hey. Look up Leo Anderson. See how much he's worth." There was a quiet pause. "Yeah I'm there and I got _company._"

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><p>September 2013<p>

He could see the myriad of emotions that flickered through Kurt's face and eyes; first fear, then recognition and shock, followed soon by a weird sense of relief. "Blaine?" Tears slipped from Kurt's eyes as the boy through caution to the wind and wrapped his arms around him tightly, apparently forgetting that Blaine had only a moment before been threatening him with a knife. "You're alive!"

"No!" Blaine hadn't forgotten and he pushed Kurt back hard. He picked up the knife and winced when Kurt recoiled at the sight of it. He shoved it into Kurt's hands and saw the confusion that was now riddled on the other boy's face. "Look, you have to hurt me, cut me, right now, okay? Just do it and get the hell out of here."

"What;" Kurt's eyes widened in shock, "no way!" He dropped the knife. "What the hell are you doing here? You've been gone for two years. I thought you were dead!"

Blaine looked around nervously for Pierre before whispering quickly, "Look Kurt, pretend you never saw me, okay?" His breathing quickened and became shallow in panic. "You have to get out of here now, okay? If Pierre finds you- if he sees me not robbing you-" he stopped and shook his head, "Just go Kurt. Just go." He picked up the knife and let out a small gasp as he sliced a gash in his own arm. "I'll say you fought back, just go."

Kurt batted the knife from Blaine's hand instinctively and grabbed Blaine's injured arm, pressing the sleeve of his jacket over the blood that started to leak from it. "I'm not going anywhere." He frowned softly, inspecting the arm a little more closely. "I'm going to have to bandage this, but at least it's not too deep."

"You're not going to do anything. Are you not listening to me Kurt?" Blaine asked frantically. "You have to get out of here. Pierre's just around the corner. He'll kill you."

"Come with me," Kurt told him, pulling him down the alley by the arm as he asked, "Who the hell is Pierre?"

"I can't just go with you Kurt. He'll find me. He'll-"

"Blaine?" A deep voice broke into the alley and both young men froze stiffly.

Blaine pulled his arm from Kurt's hand and carefully turned around. "Y-yes Pierre?"

"I thought I told you to rob the boy?" Pierre asked in a cold voice, sliding a gun from his belt and aiming it steadfastly at Kurt.

"Who the hell do you think you are-" Kurt started, taking in the terrified, stricken look on Blaine's face.

"Shut up." The man's finger tightened on the trigger just slightly. When Kurt's mouth closed automatically, Pierre's eyes flashed back to Blaine. "Well Blaine? I believe I asked you a question."

Blaine stepped in front of Kurt so the gun was aimed at him, "I-I was, bu-but-"

"Don't lie to me Blaine," the man's voice dropped even more coldly. "Why aren't you robbing him?"

Blaine lowered his eyes, looking at his tattered sneakers. "I just couldn't. I'm sorry."

"Why does he talk to you as if he knows you?" Pierre asked in a dark tone. "Why are you protecting him? Better yet, why do you know his name?"

"You-you were listening," Blaine murmured as he hunched his shoulders tightly, but didn't move from his protective stance in front of Kurt. "He was my boyfriend; b-b-before."

"I thought he looked familiar. Blaine, pick up the knife." Pierre ordered with his voice still dark and icy. Blaine immediately obeyed, his heart beating frantically. "Good boy, now grab your little friend and follow me."

It was a direct order. He couldn't disobey, but it was Kurt, so he couldn't exactly obey Pierre either. He looked questioningly from Kurt to Pierre as he tried to make the right decision, biting down on his lip so hard that he could taste the distinct coppery blood that had burst from it.

"Do not make me ask twice," Pierre snapped at him, his finger teasing at the trigger in a clear threat.

He had no choice but to obey. He should have known better than to hesitate. If he didn't listen, minutes or hours from now some poor unwitting person would be finding Kurt's bloody body in this alleyway, and maybe his too. He couldn't let that happen, he just couldn't; at least not to Kurt.

Blaine turned and with broken eyes, grasped Kurt's wrist tightly and pulled him forward, again placing the knife to his ribs. "I'm sorry," he whispered to his former boyfriend as he pushed him forward after Pierre.

Kurt didn't fight him, less because of the knife at his ribs – he had a feeling Blaine wouldn't really have the heart to use it – it had much more to do with the gun in the man Blaine called Pierre's hand. Instead he allowed himself to be forcibly led down the alley towards a beat up looking vehicle and pushed into the backseat. He didn't speak either during the short drive, mostly out of shock. He just stared at Blaine who was sitting next to him looking down at his hands in his lap and clutching the knife.

He stayed silent until the car pulled into a covered parking lot and Blaine started forcing him into a shabby looking apartment building with dirty hallway carpeting. "Blaine," he asked in a whisper as Pierre unlocked a deadbolt in one of the apartment doors, "what's going on here?"

Blaine licked his bloody lips as he gently pushed Kurt through the front door and into a chair at the kitchen table. "Just don't talk, okay Kurt? It'd just be better if you didn't talk. I-I need to fix this. Just let me fix this."

"You really screwed up this time, didn't you Blainey?" Pierre growled in interruption, holding the gun in his hand tightly. "We went all this time undetected, but you just had to open your mouth to your little boyfriend, didn't you? I should have gotten rid of you the moment you screwed up the drop."

"You told me to rob him and he recognized me," Blaine reminded him with his hand still clutched around the knife's handle, before adding curtly, "As for the drop I was bound, gagged and blindfolded. How exactly did I screw up it up?"

"By being a distraction!" Pierre whipped around, slamming the butt of the gun against Blaine's skull and sending the boy to his knees clutching his head. The knife skittered across the floor into the kitchen.

Kurt stumbled from the chair and to his knees also, bringing Blaine protectively into his arms. He looked up at the man with the gun. "Leave him alone!"

"Shut up." Pierre pointed the gun at him. "I wasn't talking to you, was I?"

Kurt clamped his mouth shut, holding Blaine a little tighter.

Blaine carefully lifted his head from his hands and looked at Kurt as he whispered in a broken, barely audible voice, "I missed you, but I never imagined a reunion like this. I always thought- well _imagined_ someone might save me- never this."

"Hey it's okay," Kurt whispered back to him gently, rocking him back and forth a little. "Honestly I'm just glad you're alive. I thought you were dead Blaine." He sniffed back a few tears. "I thought I'd never get to see you again."

"It'd be better if you didn't," Blaine told him in a small voice, clutching him back. It felt so good to have someone hold him so gently and with so much affection; that someone was holding him but not holding him down. "I'm not the boy you used to love Kurt and Pierre- Pierre will kill you."

"I still love you Blaine," Kurt insisted, kissing his forehead tenderly and purposefully ignoring Pierre's angry pacing. "Don't you still love me?"

"Of course I do," he swallowed thickly as he spoke. The affection of a gesture as simple as that small chaste kiss brought tears to his eyes. As much as he cherished it, he knew he didn't deserve it. "But you can't love me anymore Kurt. I'm not me anymore." He pressed his head against Kurt's chest despite the pain it caused as a whisper escaped his lips, "I've been sleeping with Pierre for the past two years."

Kurt froze and Blaine immediately thought that the other boy was about to throw him from his arms in disgust and that the beautiful, comforting feeling of being held would soon be torn from him, but instead he was drawn even closer to Kurt. "I doubt it's by choice," Kurt mumbled softly.

"Only the first couple months," Blaine murmured; his voice breaking. "Then- then I just gave in."

"That's not saying yes," Kurt told him in a quiet, firm voice. "You still didn't have a choice."

"Kurt, please don't try to comfort me." Blaine shook his head as he spoke quietly, "I've gotten you into so much trouble." He squeezed Kurt, holding him as if he'd never get to hold him again. "He's going to kill you. Kurt, he's going to kill you I know it. I don't know if I can fix this."

Kurt bit down on his lip and looked up at Pierre for a moment where the man was still pacing across the floor angrily. "Hey." He carefully stroked a hand over Blaine's hair, making sure not to press against the wound on his head. "It'll be okay."

"You shouldn't lie to him," Pierre growled at Kurt. He motioned with the gun. "Get back on the chair, now."

Kurt just narrowed his eyes at the man rather than moving.

"Move!" The man yelled crossly, stepping forward and grabbing Kurt by the hair as he struggled to stay with Blaine. Pierre hauled him back, disregarding his cry of pain and smacked the gun hard against his temple.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Please leave a review! They mean so much to me and are my only payment for writing nowadays.


	3. Chapter 3: One Week

**Summary**: Two years ago Kurt's boyfriend was kidnapped and supposedly murdered. Two years ago Blaine was ripped away and brainwashed into believing his captor loved him. Its two years later and they've been reunited, but it's not everything they imagined it would be.

**Warning:** Some violence.

**A/N**: You guys are so great! I can't believe how many reviews I've gotten is such a short amount of time. I'm glad you're so interested in my story, especially since it's a bit different from anything I've ever written before. I'll be honest the formatting with the timeline is totally new for me, but I feel like it works for this story. Thank you so much for your support.

Also I know before I said this chapter was going to be shorter than the others, but somehow my chapters always seem to get longer when I edit them.

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><p>Chapter 3: One Week<p>

_August 2011_

Blaine looked up when the door to the house opened and another man stepped inside. This man was more muscular than the one who'd originally kidnapped him and was also wearing a woollen baklava.

"Good job," the bigger guy growled as he looked towards Blaine, "you brought back a pet."

The word pet set him off. He'd spent too much of his life being treated like a lesser being or an animal because of who he was. He opened his mouth, letting the words spill out indignantly before he could stop himself. "I'm not a pet. I'm a teenager. I don't know if your tiny brain can wrap around this, but there _is_ a difference."

The moment the words finished blurting from his lips he knew he'd been stupid; that he'd made a huge mistake.

"I'm the one with the tiny brain?" The man chuckled ominously and took a step forward to grab Blaine by the hair, shoving a gun against his cheek. "You're the idiot mouthing off to the guy who could cause you a lot of pain right now. Who do you think is the one being stupid here?"

Every muscle in his body seemed to freeze and his eyes widened at the painful pressure against the side of his face. His eyes flickered from Cal to the unnamed man, waiting in terrified silence for someone to speak, or do something. He never should have opened his mouth. "I am," he mumbled desperately. "I'm sorry. I'm stupid. I'm the stupid one."

"Yeah I bet you're sorry." The gun jerked tighter against his cheek. "I bet you wish you'd never opened your stupid mouth, don't you?"

A whimper bubbled from his lips, "Yes." He could swear the pressure against his cheek was going to bruise it spectacularly.

"Just who do you think is in charge here, exactly?" The man asked, his voice lowering to a dangerously quiet tone. "Who do you think gets to choose if you live or die?"

"You," he whispered his answer quickly, droplets welling up in his eyes despite himself. "You do. I'm sorry. Please- please don't- please don't kill me."

"I won't, for now," the man drew the gun away his cheek and moved to tap it gently against his lips, keeping a hold of his hair, "but you listen to me carefully, any more trouble from you and I won't hesitate to put my gun in your pretty little mouth and pull the trigger, got it?"

He nodded his head very slightly, not daring to part his lips to speak.

"You won't," Cal said with a small laugh, a glint in his eye. "You know how much he's worth. Now stop scaring the poor kid, alright? Save it for later."

Blaine let out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding when the man let him go and let his head sink downward so he was looking at the floor rather than either of the men who currently held his life in their hands. Somehow he wasn't quite as sure as Cal that this man wouldn't murder him if he felt like it.

He barely watched as the new man shoved a few sheets of paper at Cal. "Considering how much he's worth, I'll agree."

"Wow," Cal muttered, looking between the paper and where he was taped to the chair. "Looks like Blainey-boy's worth quite a bit of money." He paused and let out a snicker. "I almost don't want to wait to call his Mommy and Daddy."

"Are you an idiot?" The other man shook his head and grabbed the papers back. "We should call them now, before they get their lines tapped or something. You really are an idiot, aren't you?" He let out a growl and pulled a pen from his inner coat pocket, before starting to write. He then shoved the papers at Cal, before pulling out his cell phone. "What's the boy's number?"

The man dialled as Cal read out the number on his hand. He then pressed the phone hard against Blaine's face with one hand, and pressed his gun against his temple with the other. His body seemed to freeze again and he bit down on his lip hard as he listened to the phone ring.

When his dad picked up the phone, he sounded irate. "Who the hell is it? Blaine that better be you. You're late, again."

He tried to get out a word, but his mouth just opened and closed silently.

"Hello? Who the hell is this?" He heard his father ask again, sounding even more impatient.

It wasn't until the unnamed man pulled something back on his gun, making it click and mouthing at him dangerously to speak, that he actually managed to get a word out. "D-dad?" Blaine asked; his voice somewhat squeaky. "Dad, it's me."

"Blaine?" His father's voice only sounded slightly less irritated. "Where are you calling from? I don't recognize the number."

"I- I don't know Dad," Blaine murmured in a shaky tone, his voice becoming hoarse and wet as tears formed again in his eyes. "I don't know where I am."

The irritation drained completely from his father's voice, replaced suddenly by worry. "What do you mean you don't know where you are?"

Cal shoved the paper in front of his face and he took the hint. "D-dad," he stuttered in a soft voice, "they- they're going to kill me if-if you don't give them a quarter million dollars." He paused for a short moment. "If you call the police they'll kill me and- and if you take too long with the money they're going to start hurting me- so if you love me you have to get the money in a week." His voice started shaking even harder as he whispered, "I-if y-you don't they'll st-start br-breaking bones. The- the longer you take- the- the worse they-they're going to hurt me."

"Blaine," his father's voice was suddenly soothing, "don't you worry. Everything will be alright, I promise."

"Dad," Blaine whispered, a tear suddenly sliding down his cheek, "they'll call again in a week."

"Blaine, son," his father soothed again, "just stay strong for me buddy. Everything's going to be okay. I love you, okay? I love you and we're going to get through this. Your mom and I will pay whatever they want and then you'll come home, okay?"

"O-okay Dad," he said with a tight swallow, "I-I love you too. I- tell Mom, Bri and Joey I love them, okay?"

"You'll tell them yourself when you come home." His father's voice was firm, but the firmness was undermined by the slight anxious wavering that was apparent as he added, "I'll get you home son, I promise."

"Dad I-I'm scared," he admitted in a hoarse, faltering whisper, still feeling the cold metal pressed tightly against his temple. Scared was a mild word for what he was feeling. He was so petrified he was sure that with or without the tape he wouldn't have been able to move at all.

The man pulled the phone away from him before his father could form a reply, snapping it shut and stepping away from the bound boy. He levelled a dark stare at him, "You should be scared. You better hope they do what we say boy, or else you're dead." There was a soft chuckle. "As a matter of fact, I think you're dead either way."

Blaine started pulling at the tape binding him hard, "B-but please! I haven't seen your faces. I can't identify you or anything. I-I won't say anything. M-my family and I won't say anything. Please, w-we'll just pretend nothing ever happened, I promise!"

"Aw come on man," Cal spoke up after a moment. "We don't have to kill the kid. I mean seriously, it isn't like he can tell anyone who we are or anything and he's just a kid." Cal looked at Blaine with some compassion in his eyes, "I mean look; he's terrified. He's not going to tell no one anything."

"I won't tell," Blaine promised desperately, his voice hoarse, "I won't. I promise."

"Look man, this isn't what I signed up for. I'm not murdering some kid." Cal stepped between Blaine and the other man as he spoke firmly, "We'll ransom him off and then let him go."

The man raised his gun and squeezed the trigger. Blaine gave a wordless yell, his eyes wide as he heard the gun go off and Cal fell backwards, landing right at his feet. His breathing quickened in terror as Cal became deathly still and the nameless man stepped forward to kick him lightly in the ribs, "Dumb idiot." He turned to Blaine, yanking the wool mask off his face. "Well guess what kid, now you've seen my face and you've seen me commit murder; so there ain't no way you're getting out of this alive."

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><p><strong>August 2011<strong>

Usually he called on Blaine's cell phone but he kept getting the recording stating that the phone was no longer in service. Nonetheless when he called the Anderson's home line Kurt had been expecting Blaine to answer the phone. He'd been expecting to discuss with his boyfriend whether or not Blaine would transfer to McKinley the following year. He'd been expecting the easy conversations he was used to.

He was certainly not expecting Mr. Anderson to be the one answering the phone. "Hello, Anderson residence." The voice sounded nervous and faltering and not at all like the Mr. Anderson Kurt had met several times before. Kurt frowned; Blaine's father sounded terrified.

"Um hello Mr. Anderson, this is Kurt. Could I speak to Blaine please?" He asked uncertainly.

"I'm afraid not," Mr. Anderson told him, and Kurt could swear he heard the other man's voice choking up.

Something uncomfortable settled in Kurt's stomach. "Can I ask why? Is Blaine grounded or something?"

There was a long pause and the uncomfortable feeling in Kurt's stomach tightened as he awaited the answer. Something just wasn't right here. "Yes," Mr. Anderson told him in a voice that was thick with untruth, "for at least a week. He's- he's not allowed to leave the house, have friends over or- or talk to anyone."

"Oh," Kurt said in a soft voice; at least that kind of explained why Blaine's phone wasn't working. He swallowed thickly before asking in a quiet tone, "Could I just have him for a quick second? If I can't see or talk to him for a week- I'd just like to tell him I love him, if that's okay?"

There was another uncomfortable stretch of silence before Mr. Anderson replied in an oddly choked voice, "I'll tell him for you Kurt. You can try calling back in a week or so, alright?"

"I- okay," Kurt's usually smooth face crinkled at the oddness of the conversation. "I'll try back next week. Goodbye Mr. Anderson."

"I will tell him for you," Mr. Anderson interjected in an oddly croaky voice. "Goodbye Kurt. Do call back next week- I'm sure Blaine will be missing you immensely. He loves you too."

Kurt frowned, a little taken aback. From all his previous conversations (few and far between and terribly awkward) Mr. Anderson hadn't much approved of their relationship; though he never said so out loud. His sudden acceptance of it was just a little disconcerting.

The dial tone interrupted him and he set down his phone, his brows still furrowed in confusion.

Why on earth did Mr. Anderson sound so frightened? And, for that matter, why was he so intent of getting Kurt off the phone?

Kurt's stomach tightened again, remembering how intent Mr. Anderson was on not letting Blaine talk to him even more a moment. He picked up his phone again and dialled the number.

"Hello, Anderson residence?" The faltering, terrified worry of Mr. Anderson's voice came through the phone again.

"Mr. Anderson, has something happened to Blaine?" Kurt asked quickly. "Something you can't tell me about? Is he hurt or something?"

"I don't have time for idle conversations right now Kurt," Mr. Anderson told him tersely. "I will tell Blaine you called. You can call back next week but in the mean time I have serious business to attend to so I would appreciate it if you didn't tie up my phone lines."

"I-I'm sorry," Kurt stuttered softly, "I'll- I'll just go now." He hung up the phone and stared at his wall. Blaine's father's defensive reaction had spoken what his words couldn't. Something had happened to Blaine. He chewed his lip and grabbed his pillow squeezing it.

Something in his heart told him that something had happened to Blaine and something else told him that there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

* * *

><p>September 2013<p>

Kurt slumped in Blaine's arms and was pulled from them abruptly. Blaine didn't fight as Pierre shoved the unconscious boy into the wooden chair and started tying him down with rope. Instead he sat huddled on the floor, tears slipping helplessly from his eyes.

"Stop crying fairy," Pierre snarled at him and Blaine immediately started wiping at his eyes furiously with the backs of his hands. Pierre sent him a glare. "Go get something to gag him with, _now_."

He rose to his feet with a soundless nod and walked down the hall to the closet. He opened the door quietly and pulled out a scarf, before knotting the center and returning to Pierre. He held out the scarf hesitantly, but Pierre just chuckled at him.

"Go ahead and gag your little boyfriend Blainey," Pierre smirked at him, pulling Kurt's lolling head back with a hand in his hair.

"Please, just let him go," Blaine whispered, wringing the scarf in his hands and biting on his lip. "We can go somewhere else."

"I don't think so," Pierre growled, pressing the gun to Kurt's cheek tightly.

Blaine winced. It looked like Pierre was pressing that gun hard enough into Kurt's cheek that it might bruise. "Then let me deal with him, please."

Pierre chuckled softly and let Kurt's head fall forward. "Fine, he's all yours. He's your responsibility. If he escapes, I will track him down and kill him, then you will be punished; do you understand?"

Blaine nodded his head vigorously, stepped forward with the scarf and gently tying it around Kurt's mouth so the knot was nestled between his lips. He took a deep breath and carefully probed the wound on Kurt's temple with his fingers.

He swallowed thickly and looked up at Pierre. "C-can I clean him up, please?"

"He's your responsibility Blainey," Pierre reminded him with a shrug. "I'll be napping on the couch. Take his belongings and put them on the table. Afterwards I don't care what you do with him as long as he's still tied and gagged when I wake up."

Blaine nodded, biting his lip silently. He carefully removed Kurt's cell phone from his pocket and placed it quietly on the table. It was all he could find in his pockets, the wallet having fallen forgotten in the alleyway when Pierre had interrupted their reunion.

Once Pierre was lying down on the couch he stepped over to the kitchen sink and wet a napkin slightly. He pulled a chair in front of Kurt and started carefully wiping the blood from the other boy's temple.

Kurt's eyes blinked softly and looked up at him, letting out a muffled groan through the gag.

"Hey, hey," Blaine whispered softly with a weak smile as he continued to dab at the wound. "Just stay calm baby. I'm going to take care of you, I promise." The term of endearment just slipped out. He had no idea if it was appropriate or not, but it just felt right.

Kurt's eyes flickered to his arm and he followed the gaze. Dried blood was crusted over the cut and was still oozing a little fresh blood out onto his arm.

"I'm fine," he promised him with a weak smile. "I'll fix myself up as soon as I'm done looking after you, okay?"

Kurt tried to say something, but it was muffled through the scarf gagging him. He gave Blaine a pleading look, but the boy just shook his head.

"I'm sorry babe, I'm not allowed," Blaine told him tenderly, grimacing as Kurt winced when he wiped the bruising cut again. "I'm sorry. I know it hurts." He carefully tilted Kurt's face up by his jaw and pressed a gentle kiss to the boy's cheekbone, which probably wasn't very appropriate either considering their situation.

Again he couldn't help but not care. This was Kurt, the boy, or man he supposed was now a more accurate description, who he'd missed so desperately and still loved even after two difficult, terrifying years of separation.

Kurt stared at him, tears welling up in his eyes.

It was enough to make Blaine want to cry himself to see those beautiful glasz eyes shining wet with tears. They were finally together again, but everything was so wrong. "I'm sorry Kurt. I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do. He'll kill me; worse, he'll kill you. I have to do what he says. I just have to."

Sobs started breaking from his throat and he leaned over, pressing his forehead into Kurt's lap.

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><p><strong>AN**: Was anyone else totally pissed that the Warblers just walked away when Blaine was screaming on the ground in pain in the Michael Jackson episode? I expected some of them to at least try to see if he was okay. Some friends… yeesh. Anyways, that's my mini-rant. Chapter 4 will be posted on Tuesday February the 7th.

Please leave a review, they make me so happy!


	4. Chapter 4: Answer Me a Question

**Summary**: Two years ago Kurt's boyfriend was kidnapped and supposedly murdered. Two years ago Blaine was ripped away and brainwashed into believing his captor loved him. Its two years later and they've been reunited, but it's not everything they imagined it would be.

**Warning**: Mentions of non-con, minor cussing and violence.

**A/N**: As promised here is the fourth chapter of this story. This chapter gets a little scarier for Blaine and Kurt. I also wanted to remind everybody this story is pre-Season three (or AU after season two) so none of the events in any of the episodes of the third season have happened here.

Well apparently Blaine's canon brother is supposed to be named Cooper. Hmm, I think I like Joey better, but maybe that's just because I'm biased.

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><p>Chapter 4: Answer Me a Question<p>

_August 2011_

Blaine's breath caught in his throat. He couldn't speak. He couldn't breathe. All he could do was stare at the dead man on the floor. "Y-you killed him," he whispered finally, after taking in a small, shallow breath.

"I have no use for a dumbass wussy partner," the man growled as he grabbed Cal's body by the ankles and started pulling it down the hall. "Now keep your mouth shut before I decide to put a couple holes in you too."

Blaine clamped his mouth shut in fear, watching as the nameless man pulled the body out of the room, only later to hear the sound of a door opening and closing. He let his head fall to his chest, tears streaking down his face. He'd never been more terrified in his life.

The man re-entered the room after a few minutes and looked at Blaine. His hand grasped his chin hard and forced his head up until the boy's hazel eyes were staring directly into the man's icy blue ones. "Are you crying? Are you a little pussy too? Well you'd better stop boy, before I get fed up with you too."

Blaine tried to suck back his tears but only managed to let out a soft, choking sob.

"You are a pussy, aren't you?" The man chuckled ominously. "Or maybe you're just a pathetic little fairy boy, is that it?"

Blaine's breathing hitched and his eyes widened slightly.

The man let out a guffaw at his startled reaction. "That is it, isn't it? You're a fairy."

Blaine swallowed his tears and said in a shaky voice, "An-anyone would b-be scared." He paused for a moment before adding the tentative insult despite that he knew it would promise pain. "Especially wh-when look-looking at a-a face like y-yours."

He was right about the assured pain. The back of the man's hand cracked against his face, before it dug into his hair, pulling his head back. "You're a snarky little fairy, aren't you? I should warn you Blaine that that's going to prove very badly for your health."

He tried his hardest to be brave, to hold himself together enough that he wouldn't be considered weak. Maybe if he could get this man to respect him even just the tiniest bit, he'd be allowed to live. "Yo-you're going to kill m-me anyways."

"I can kill you now, or I can kill you a week from now; that's up to you. How much it hurts, well that's up to you too," the man told him, sounding deadly calm. "So tell me Blainey, are you a fairy?" He gave a sinister smile and stroked the side of Blaine's face in mock gentleness with his other hand. "Go on Blainey, you can tell me."

Blaine tried to jerk his head away unsuccessfully and clenched his mouth shut.

Another blow to the same cheekbone that had been stroked sent black spots and flashes of light into his vision as the man growled, "I may already know the answer, but when I ask you a question Blaine, you better answer it."

He dizzily raised his eyes to meet the man's before forcing out an answer tightly, "Yes, I'm gay."

The man laughed softly. "So you are a fairy, after all. Did Cal tell you I just got out of prison?" He laughed again when Blaine gave a tiny shake of his head. "Well I did and you know there aren't a lot of broads in prison. So what did I do, may you ask. Well I used a couple of fairy boys. Maybe they weren't actually little faggots like you, but that's not what really matters. All that really matters is that they were easy enough to overpower. You know what I found out?"

His bravery went out the window as Blaine shook his head again soundlessly, tears leaking from his eyes. His entire body had started to tremble faintly. This conversation, however one-sided, was not going well for him at all.

"Boys, untouched ones like you, are just as good as women, sometimes better." The man's breath blew stalely over his face. "I bet you are untouched, aren't you? I bet there aren't a whole lot of options around here for boys like you." He paused for a moment, gripping his hair tighter. "Go on Blainey; tell me, have you had sex before?"

He wanted to lie so badly, but his panic forced the truth from his mouth and he whispered, "No."

The man let out a chuckle. "I didn't think so." He let go of Blaine's hair, allowing the boy's head to fall to his chest as terrified and somewhat ashamed tears slipped down his cheeks. His imprisoner reached down and carefully wiped away some of the tears with his thumbs. "Don't worry Blainey. You won't die a virgin. Isn't that good news?"

"No!" He started yanking every which way at the tape, struggling wildly for freedom. A fist slammed into his stomach, sending the air and energy out of him so he slumped forward limply. He moderated his voice once he caught his breath, "Please don't; an-anything but that."

"You don't exactly get a choice in the matter, do you? So I'd learn to accept it," the man retorted warningly. He bent over to pick up the roll of duct tape and tore off a strip. One hand grasped Blaine around the jaw, pulling his head up so the strip of tape could be slapped hard over his lips. "See," he told the now silenced teen, "you're not the one calling the shots here Blaine, I am. Now listen up while I tell you how things are going to be. You are _never_ going home. Your place now is here with me. I'm going to do what _I_ like with you, whether you like it or not. You're parents are going to give me a quarter million dollars and then, most likely, I'm going to kill you."

Blaine's eyes widened, still wet with tears as he was forced to look into the man's face by the hand still holding his jaw in a tight grip. He was going to _die_. This man was going to take everything from him just shy of his seventeenth birthday, including his _life._

"However," the man continued with a hostile smirk, "if you're a good boy maybe I'll keep you around a little bit longer. The better you behave, the less I'll hurt you and the more chance you have of lasting longer than a week, do you understand?"

Weakly he nodded his head.

* * *

><p>September 2013<p>

"How's our little friend?" Pierre let out a yawn and stretched out his arms as he looked over to where Blaine was still leaning into Kurt. He raised an eyebrow, "Wow, he really meant something to you, didn't he Blainey-boy?"

Blaine raised himself up suddenly, looking at Pierre with his eyes still wet, before whispering a soft, "Yeah."

"You know his home phone number?" Pierre asked, a sudden grin on his face. "I bet you know just how much he's worth too, don't you?"

"His dad's a mechanic," Blaine said in a quiet voice, licking his lips. "It won't be much, especially since both Kurt and his brother are probably in college now." He swallowed thickly. "Please can't we just let him go?"

"I don't think so Blainey-boy," Pierre shook his head. "Hell at this point I'm doing you a favour just letting him live- for now." A smile grew slowly on his face. "Maybe if he's a good boy I'll keep him." There was a pause, "Pull down that scarf. I've got a question for your boy."

Blaine silently pulled the gag down from Kurt's face, allowing the other boy to speak. "You're a sick bastard," Kurt spat out, straining weakly at the ropes binding him.

"You're going to answer me a question," Pierre was still smiling darkly. "Tell me, are you a virgin?"

Kurt's eyes widened and he looked to Blaine in some futile hope that the other boy could protect him. This was not going well; especially since Blaine's earlier confession had told him just what this man was capable of.

"I asked you a question," the man said in a dangerously sing-song voice. "I would answer it if I were you."

Kurt squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, before answering, "I don't see how that matters, but yes."

"It matters." Pierre smirked, his hand gripping the top of Kurt's thigh and starting to slip around to the top of his ass. "The fresher the better."

"Stop touching me," Kurt hissed through clenched teeth, pulling at the ropes holding him to the chair.

"I don't think so Kurtie-"

Blaine shook his head wildly, daring to interrupt and fighting the desperate urge to forcefully try to pull Pierre's hand away from Kurt. It might divert the attention from Kurt for a moment, but he knew that Pierre would choose to punish him by hurting Kurt even worse. The only thing he could fight with were his words and even that sometimes proved dangerous. "You said he was mine. We- we can call his parents; ransom him off. I'm sure- I'm sure they'll do what it takes to get the money. Please Pierre, you said he was mine."

"I said he was your responsibility," Pierre growled. "There is a difference." He smirked again, taking his hand off Kurt and poking Blaine hard in the chest. "If he's so yours then you're going to have to prove it Blainey. You're going to have to lay a claim, just like I laid my claim to you."

"I-I can't do that." Blaine was shaking his head again. "I can't do that to him. I just can't." He bit down hard on his lower lip again. "Can't we just hold him for ransom? Then we can use the money to go wherever you want and Kurt won't tell anyone what you look like 'cause- 'cause he'll know if anyone finds us that you'll kill me. He still loves me. He won't let that happen."

Pierre scowled. "Fine, but it's your responsibility. You deal with it and if you or he screws up, he dies."

Blaine threw his arms around the man's torso, hugging him spontaneously only to be thrown hard to the floor. He looked sheepish for a moment as he got back to his feet, before mumbling, "Thank you."

Pierre gave a soft growl and narrowed his eyes at the boy, "I've got work to do. You're going to go get a few disposable cell phones to call his parents with." There was a quiet pause. "Give me his cell phone too. I'll go get rid of it."

Blaine immediately handed over Kurt's cell and watched in silent relief as Pierre left the apartment. He licked his lips lightly and looked back at Kurt, "Are you okay?"

Kurt was shaking in the chair, looking paler than usual and his eyes were circled with red, "Oh- Blaine- thank you. Thank you for-for stopping him."

"I'm not- I won't let him hurt you like that, I swear," Blaine promised him quietly, letting his hand run tenderly over the other boy's cheek.

"I don't-" Kurt swallowed thickly, "I don't understand how you- how you deal with that."

"It's just- different with me and him." Blaine mumbled with a shake of his head. He paused for a short moment before asking again, "Are you okay Kurt?"

"You need to fix your arm," Kurt reminded him in a rasping voice instead of answering the question.

He looked down at the offending limb that was still lightly leaking blood. He sighed and went over to the kitchen, ripping off a piece of paper towel. He dug out some scotch tape from the drawer and struggled to bandage the arm one handed.

"If you untied me I could help you," Kurt mumbled at him and Blaine shot him a look.

"If I untied you I'd be getting us both killed," he retorted wryly, using the counter to brace the paper towel against his arm and managing to get it to stay in place with the tape. He presented the finished product to Kurt. The paper towel was wrapped precariously and just barely held in place, but it was serviceable. "There, all better; see? Now, please answer me; are you okay?"

Kurt nodded and smiled faintly, "C-can you let me go now? Blaine we'll go to the police, he won't be able to hurt us then and everything will be okay and-"

Blaine cut him off with a shake of his head, "I can't let you go Kurt. Trust me, I want to, but Pierre will track you down and kill us both. I can't just leave him. It doesn't work that way. It just doesn't." He took in a cleansing breath. "I'll keep you safe. Pierre's usually okay if he can get some money from it. The only reason he didn't let me go is because I saw him kill Cal and he'd just gotten out of prison." He nodded his head as if he were convincing himself. "You're different. He'll let you go because he has me. He loves me in a weird way."

Kurt's mouth dropped open, "He doesn't love you Blaine. He uses and abuses you, that's not love."

Blaine just shook his head, "You don't understand Kurt. You couldn't. What happened just then is proof. If- if he didn't love me he would- he would have hurt you." He leaned down and gently kissed his shocked lips. "Plus I certainly don't make very much money pickpocketing and he takes care of me. He doesn't have to."

"He doesn't take care of you," Kurt argued, his eyes widening slightly at the way Blaine was rationalizing the way he was living, "he beats and rapes you."

There was a tight sigh as the other boy tried to ignore the painful words coming out of Kurt's mouth. "I love you Kurt, more than anyone, but I-I love him too and I have to stay with him. I don't have any other choice. He loves me, but he won't hesitate to kill me either if I disobey him."

"He's really screwed with your brain, hasn't he?" Kurt asked quietly, pulling lightly at the tight ropes binding him.

"Can we not talk about this right now?" Blaine grumbled, his eyes not meeting Kurt's.

"I'm sorry." Kurt was truly apologetic and his voice was pained. "I can't imagine what- what you've been living with the last two years." Blaine didn't answer him at all, didn't acknowledge his words even and he tried a different tactic, smiling weakly. "Your hair's different."

Blaine returned the smile faintly, a hand reaching up to one of the shaggy curls. His hair had grown out quite a bit, curling over his ears and his forehead, stopping just short of his eyes. "I don't really have a chance to get it cut much. Pierre does it when he feels it's getting too long, but I'm not allowed to have it as short as it used to be."

Kurt wanted to ask why, but he didn't. He was afraid of the answer; terrified it would have something to do with the rapes Blaine confessed Pierre committed against him. He could vividly imagine the man gripping Blaine's hair to control him and- he blinked, forcing himself to pay attention to what Blaine was saying and holding back his tears. Anything was better than the images threatening his mind.

"I can't really gel it anymore either; considering I don't have any hair gel." Blaine's smile weakened even more.

"I like it curly," Kurt whispered, fondness seeping into his voice. Maybe everything was messed up and wrong and downright terrifying. Maybe he was tied to a chair and Blaine wasn't about to let him go –thanks to what seemed to him to be a case of intense fear mixed with a bit of Stockholm's syndrome– but Blaine was _there_. Blaine was standing there in front of him, very much alive and at the moment that was enough.

Alive meant there was still a chance, however miniscule, that they would somehow escape this. There was a chance Kurt or someone -anyone would do- could save Blaine from the hell he was living in.

The hazel eyes broke away from Kurt's again as Blaine muttered, "So does Pierre."

"Well who cares what he thinks?" Kurt growled bitterly. Blaine may claim -or even believe- that he loved his kidnapper, but the subconscious pain and obvious discomfort that laced in his voice gave him away.

"I do," Blaine told him, still not meeting Kurt's gaze. "Things are better when he- when he's- when he gets what he wants."

"Blaine." Kurt lowered his voice, pleading softly, "Listen to me. You don't have to live like this anymore. He's gone right now. Untie me and we'll go to the police and they'll- they'll protect you. Joey's a police officer now. He'll make sure Pierre never gets anywhere close to you ever again."

A familiar ache settled into Blaine's heart at the mention of his brother; his brother who was so much better off without him around to bug or annoy him, his brother who probably didn't care about him at all anymore.

Blaine pursed his lips together for a moment, before changing the subject quietly, "I have to go get those phones. It's not far- I'm not allowed to go far without him- so I won't be gone long." He tried to press the gag into Kurt's mouth, but the other boy clenched his jaw tightly. "Stop fighting Kurt. I can't leave you here not gagged and if I don't do what he says…"

Kurt still didn't open his mouth, keeping it shut stubbornly.

"Dammit Kurt, he'll kill you," Blaine muttered, digging his fingers into the boy's cheeks hard at the joints of his jaw to force it open. He watched as Kurt grimaced before reluctantly opening his mouth. Blaine shoved the knot inside, before refastening the ends around his neck. He frowned. "I didn't want to do that Kurt, but I'm going to do what it takes for us both to be safe." He kissed his former boyfriend's cheekbone softly. "I love you Kurt. I'll be back soon." He shuddered slightly, adding, "Hopefully before Pierre."

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><p><strong>AN: **So 'Chapter 5: The Worst of It' is due to be up on February 10th 2012 (chapters 5 through 10 are already completed but need to be edited). Also, please leave a review with what you think. Reviews may not pay the rent but they sure make me happy!


	5. Chapter 5: The Worst of It

**Summary**: Two years ago Kurt's boyfriend was kidnapped and supposedly murdered. Two years ago Blaine was ripped away and brainwashed into believing his captor loved him. It's two years later and they've been reunited, but it's not everything they imagined it would be.

**Warning**: Mentions of non-con, minor cussing and violence.

**A/N:** I was _going _to post this in the morning but the site wouldn't let me log in, therefore you're getting this now. In other news, wow have we gotten to the fifth chapter already? I'm currently writing three stories at once, although I'm not posting the other two yet. Before it was only two, but then a couple nights ago I had a dream and a new story (a long oneshot called 'Blizzard') was born. Don't worry though, I won't let it get in the way of this one considering it's completely planned out already. I just have to get to writing out the scenes!

I also wanted to mention that I've given Blaine an early September birthday, which is why he's still sixteen in the _August 2011_ parts and nineteen in the September 2013 parts.

Anyway I hope you like this chapter, even if it's a tad bit darker than the last ones and is kind of heartbreaking.

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><p>Chapter 5: The Worst of It<p>

_August 2011_

"Don't move." The man knelt down in front of him and Blaine stared at him, silently observing his facial features. If he ever did get out of this he was going to make sure the police had a very detailed countenance to go by.

The man certainly wasn't ugly despite his earlier insult and the thought made Blaine's stomach churn. It was hard to think of the man who clearly planned to do unspeakable things to him as handsome, but by conventional standards he was. Although handsome wasn't exactly something he could give the police to go by.

His hair was a fluffy light blonde and his eyes were a clear blue; except the blue was so icy that they made him stiffen and freeze just by looking at him. The cruelty reflected in them seemed to zap any attractiveness from the man's face, at least through his eyes.

Blaine shuddered as the man started peeling back the tape that bound him to the chair, but didn't move otherwise.

He looked again as his captor's head was bent down slightly on the tape. His complexion was pale and even, other than some slight freckling. He actually reminded him a little of a character in one of his favourite movies. The difference was that Westley in 'The Princess Bride' ended up being the hero. This man was definitely the villain. Except this wasn't some movie. This was real life and if or when this man decided to kill him; it would be a real death.

He tensed his muscles as hands started on the tape binding his ankles. If he was going to die then he was at least going to go down fighting. He would fight to get back to his family and back to Kurt. He wouldn't cause Kurt or his family the grief or pain of his death if he could help it.

He would fight for his right to life and do whatever it took to avoid that man from following through on his threats against his body. If he could avoid it, if it was possible that he could escape without submitting to that kind of pain and indiginity, then he was going to try. He might die in the process, but apparently he was going to die anyway if he did nothing. It was all a matter of sooner or later.

His wrists were still taped together by his back, but the moment the man moved from directly in front of him Blaine shot up and started running. His feet were slapping hard against the dirty hardwood floor of the house and he burst through the weak screen door, suddenly thankful that the man holding him had forgotten to close the outer door or had assumed it unnecessary.

Apparently he thought that Blaine would just submit to whatever he decided to put him through. Well he was wrong.

His eyes darted around him quickly as he ran down the front walk, trying to find someone who might be willing to help him. He should have remembered how rough the neighbourhood had looked when he'd first been forced into the rundown house; how empty it looked.

Most of all he shouldn't have hesitated in shock when he realized that no one was around to help him. A hand quickly wrapped around his upper arm and yanked him backward. He let out a muffled cry as he was forcibly pulled off his feet and slung over the man's shoulder. Despite trying to kick his way to freedom it took only mere moments before they were both back in the rundown house.

He was thrown unceremoniously to the dirty floor, slamming hard into the wall as the door banged shut and he heard the unmistakable sound of a lock clicking.

His shoulder throbbed from its impact into the wall and he trembled when the man turned away from the door and faced him. There was no way he could be characterised as handsome now with his features twisted with rage and a malicious glint in his eyes.

"Now Blaine," the man growled at him, "that was very naughty of you." There was a pause and Blaine was horrified to realize there was a lacing of amusement behind the rage. "See I was going to be gentle with you- well as gentle as a man like me can be, but now I think you need to be punished."

Blaine shrank against the wall, his entire body shuddering with fear as he tried to make himself smaller. So much for going down fighting; the whole thought had drained from him the moment his feet had left the ground outside. He didn't want to go down at all, not at the tender age of sixteen, but the moment Cal had shoved the gun against his chin hours ago all choice seemed to have been forcibly removed from his life. He couldn't even plead or desperately apologize like he wanted to. Instead he could just stare as the man came closer and closer, hands reaching down to grip his ankles and drag him away from the wall.

Something in the kidnapper's eyes told him his chances of surviving had shrunken considerably.

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><p>September 2013<p>

Blaine let out a sigh of relief when he returned to the apartment to find Pierre was still out and Kurt was still tied to the chair without any additional wounds. He set down the three disposable phones he'd picked up on the kitchen table next to where Kurt was bound before pulling a pencil and a piece of paper from a drawer and sitting down.

He gave Kurt a weak smile before starting to scribble something down as the door to the apartment opened and closed.

Pierre raised an eyebrow and stood over the chair Blaine was sitting in, taking in what the boy was writing down on the paper. "You sure it's all I can get? His clothes look awful fancy."

"He's amazing with fashion bargains," Blaine mumbled, shooting Kurt a weak smile. "He probably spent a quarter what those clothes are worth for them, or made them himself." He looked back down at the paper. "This is probably all they can manage. His dad's a mechanic and his step-mom's a nurse... plus I expect his brother Finn is in college now too, right?"

Pierre looked to Kurt who just nodded his head in answer.

"In that case, I suppose it'll do," he grumbled darkly. "Don't forget to add no police and how important it is to be prompt with the money."

Blaine looked up for a moment then nodded with a frown as he scratched something out on the paper and added more. He waited for Pierre's nod of approval before ripping down the package of one of the disposable phones. "Kurt," he addressed the bound boy, "You can only say what's on the paper, okay? Well- you can say 'I love you' to your parents and all if you want to and that you're okay, but other than that, only what's on the paper, 'kay?"

"What Blaine means to say is," Pierre grasped Kurt's hair again, forcing the boy to look him in the eyes, "you will start by simply reading off what we've written down here. Afterwards you may get all mushy for a _moment_, but you may not say anything other than that. If you do, I will kill you. Do you understand?" He yanked the gag out of Kurt's mouth in order to get an answer.

"Yeah," he said in a soft voice, "I understand."

"You still have the same home phone number?" Blaine asked after a moment, holding the cell phone.

Kurt nodded his head, wondering how in hell things had ended up like this. Two years ago he'd assumed he'd spend the rest of his life with Blaine. He never expected the other boy to mysteriously disappear, apparently be murdered and then reappear to hold him ransom two years later. It was all a little ridiculous to be honest.

He shook his head at the thought and watched as Blaine dialled his home phone number before he felt the little cell being pressed to his face gently.

"Hello?" He heard his father's voice through the phone.

Kurt swallowed thickly, "Hey Dad."

"Kurt, you okay?" Burt asked immediately and Kurt swallowed again. Somehow his dad always knew when something just wasn't right.

He looked at the paper that was placed in front of him and began to read shakily when Pierre tapped it with his forefinger, "We have your son. If you ever want to see him alive again you will give us twenty-five thousand dollars. You will not call the police, if you do, he dies. If you do not have the money in one week he will suffer. Await our call one week from today."

"Kurt is this some kind of sick joke?" Burt asked in a worried voice. "Kurt, are you okay?"

"I'm fine Dad, but- but it's not a joke. You know I could never joke about something like this... Listen I'm not allowed to say much, but- but I love you, okay?" He whispered desperately, hoping that those few extra words would not get him punished.

"I love y-"

His father was cut off when the phone was torn from his face and snapped shut by Pierre. He looked up nervously between Blaine and Pierre, chewing softly on his lip. "Was- was that okay?"

Pierre didn't answer him, instead he looked at Blaine, "Shut him up and cook supper. I'm hungry."

"Kurt," Blaine didn't gag him, instead he looked at Kurt carefully, "don't talk unless we say it's okay, alright?" He ran a hand softly over his face, relishing in the soft feel of the skin he hadn't had a chance to touch in two years. "It's for your own good."

Kurt leaned into the touch and nodded his head softly, his eyes shining.

Blaine drew his hand away and looked over at Pierre, "What do you want for supper?"

Pierre muttered the name of a pasta dish and Kurt watched in silence as Blaine started puttering around the kitchen looking for pots and digging around in the fridge. It was so domestic and normal looking that it nearly made him sick to watch. He opened his mouth, but closed it when Pierre sent a glare in his direction.

Instead he let his eyes wander the room as Pierre sank back into the couch and flicked on the television. Despite the apartment's shabby appearance it was clean and fairly tidy. There was no pictures to speak of on any of the off white walls or set up anywhere on the shelves. Off to the side of the small kitchen and living room area he could see a hallway that had three doors attached to it.

Pierre flicked through the channels from the living room and he focused his eyes on the television for a moment. It was just a Friends rerun and he let his eyes flicker away to the door, wishing that someone would burst through it and take him and Blaine away from there.

If he could just get Blaine away from Pierre and back to his family then maybe Blaine would see who really loved him. He needed help; they both did. Blaine just didn't seem to know anymore that he could be helped. Apparently in Blaine's world there was no possibility of escape or rescue.

He tugged at the ropes again and winced when they only tightened as he shifted. He stilled after a moment, realizing it was pretty useless. The only way he was getting out of here was if his dad and Carole paid the ransom, or he convinced Blaine to untie him. Something told him convincing Pierre of that would be nearly impossible. Unless, he thought to himself, he made Pierre think he, like Blaine, was too frightened and/or brainwashed to run away.

He turned his eyes to where Blaine was now draining the stuffed pasta before pouring what smelled like Alfredo sauce onto it. He was pleasantly surprised when Blaine divvied up three portions instead of two before setting it on the table carefully.

Blaine turned his chair around so it was facing the table, before saying quietly to Pierre, "Supper's ready."

Pierre gave a grunt and got up from the couch, before grabbing his plate and returning to it.

Blaine didn't comment, instead he sat down and speared a piece of pasta from Kurt's plate onto a fork and held it to his lips. "Hungry?"

"Can't I feed myself?" Kurt asked, making sure to keep the volume of his voice low. The last thing he wanted to do was bother the volatile sounding Pierre. "You could just untie my hands and nothing else." He winced a little as he tried to shift his wrists again. "These ropes are really tight Blaine. They hurt. Just my hands Blaine, that's it; just long enough so I can feed myself and get some circulation back in them."

Blaine pursed his lips tightly then nodded after a moment. "You have to promise not to try anything and keep quiet, okay?"

"I promise Blaine, I promise," Kurt whispered back quickly. He let out a little sigh of relief as he felt Blaine pick at the ropes binding his wrists behind his back. When the ropes fell away he brought his hands in front of him and rubbed his wrists tenderly where the reddened skin was indented with the rope's braiding. As promised he didn't start attacking the ropes holding his torso and ankles to the chair. He'd just have to wait until he could convince Blaine to trust him without being bound at all. Instead he smiled at Blaine and took the fork he was offered. "Thank you," he murmured, before pressing a piece of tortellini into his mouth.

Blaine smiled back at him tenderly, watching him as he ate. Apparently the other boy couldn't help himself because Blaine pressed a hand softly to his cheek, before pulling his head closer gently and pressing a kiss to his lips. Blaine pulled back suddenly with a pained frown, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't keep doing that," he whispered in a quiet voice. "You probably don't want me to. I shouldn't be stealing kisses from you. It's not right."

Kurt reached forward and grabbed Blaine's hands in his, squeezing lightly. "Blaine, I'm not exactly _fond_ of the situation," he murmured in a quiet tone, his eyes flickering to Pierre for a moment as he understated the obvious, "but I've gone two years without you, without the slightest hope of ever seeing, holding or kissing you again. I want you to kiss me. I want to kiss you. Do you have any idea how much I've missed you?" He pulled him closer and kissed him gently. "I give you full permission to kiss me whenever you want Blaine, okay?"

Blaine managed a real grin -albeit a very small one- and nodded, murmuring, "Good. I missed being kissed," before pulling back to take a bite of food. When Kurt finished eating the smile fell from his face. "I should tie you back up now. Pierre might get angry."

"Okay," Kurt whispered with a grimace, bringing his hands back behind his back and allowing Blaine to bind them. He was definitely thankful when Blaine tied them much less tightly than Pierre had, even if the knots were still firm and unyielding. He looked at Blaine, speaking cautiously, "He doesn't love you; you know that, right?"

Blaine's face crumpled and he answered plaintively, "Yes he does. If he didn't you'd be dead right now."

"He beat you over the head with a gun," Kurt reminded him, his voice barely even a whisper. "He took you away from your family and forced you to watch him kill somebody."

Blaine shook his head, "I talked back. I deserved it." He rubbed his head gently, before adding, "And it was Cal who technically kidnapped me. Yes I had to watch Pierre kill him, but he didn't love me then, he'd just met me, even if..." He frowned uncomfortably as he trailed off, instead finishing with, "You should stop talking now."

Kurt opened his mouth to protest, but Blaine fingered the gag and he immediately stopped. He pressed his lips together and instead gave his former boyfriend a hurt look.

Blaine just shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry Kurt. I don't want to have to threaten you with anything, even with something as small as gagging you, but I have to make you listen somehow. I can't let you give him a reason to hurt you- I just can't." He kissed the other boy softly, noting how Kurt refused to respond. "Great, now you're mad at me." He dropped his head into his hands.

"Of course I'm mad at you," Kurt growled suddenly, forgetting about Pierre and Blaine's threat to gag him. "You kidnapped me and are now holding me for ransom! Why the hell shouldn't I be angry?"

"Shut him up!" Pierre barked dangerously from the couch, sending a glare in their direction.

"I warned you." Blaine shook his head again, pushing the gag into Kurt's mouth before he could clamp his mouth shut. He refastened it with a small sigh, "I didn't want to do that Kurt, but now I have no choice. I can't risk Pierre getting mad at you. Killing you would mean nothing to him Kurt, nothing. You lost me once, so you know why- why I can't lose you like that. I love you too much."

Kurt bit down on the gag and let out a disgruntled grumbling noise, glaring daggers at the other boy.

"There's no use being angry with me," Blaine said, a little perturbed. "If you're going to yell and make him angry then I have no other choice. Just please do me a favour and behave for the next week so I can try to get you out of here safely, alright?"

Kurt stared at him for a long moment, before slowly nodding his head. At the very least he would have to make Blaine believe he would behave. He would escape and kidnap Blaine himself if he had to. Someway somehow he was going to get them both out of there.

"Look, I'll turn you towards the TV so you're not too bored," Blaine told him, turning the chair and wincing when it scraped against the floor and made an uncomfortable sounding screeching noise. "You'll have to watch whatever Pierre's watching, but it's better than nothing." He kissed the top of Kurt's head softly.

Kurt craned his head as Blaine stepped away. He turned his eyes back to the television when he saw that the boy was collecting up the dishes and turning on the sink tap.

Blaine was being so disgustingly domestic; acting like this was normal. How was it normal to be routinely raped by a man who claimed to love you while holding the man who really loved him tied to a chair for ransom?

The worst of it was when Blaine was done with the dishes he sank down onto the couch next to Pierre, leaning into the man and ignoring that Pierre rolled his eyes in irritation at the movement and pushed him away.

Well actually that wasn't the worst of it. The worst of it was really when Pierre got up abruptly and walked down the hall silently, before sending a pointed look Blaine's way and jerking a thumb at one of the doors.

He could see Blaine's jaw tighten and his eyes fill with liquid. The other boy didn't say anything, instead he just rose and followed Pierre down the hall and through the specified door.

His own eyes watered and leaked when he heard grunts and whimpers of pain emitted from the room, making him shift in the chair and strategically attempt to work the knots free. Every once in a while a particularly pained cry came from the room and at the first one he started struggling wildly in the ropes, all strategy lost to desperation. He knew it couldn't be the first time, but he couldn't help want to run into that room, rescue Blaine and pound Pierre's smug rapist face into a bloody, shapeless pulp.

Apparently his feelings wouldn't and couldn't take into account that Pierre would probably kill him before he'd even get a chance.

He bit down on the gag and let out a frustrated, yet severely muffled scream as salt tears dripped from his chin. God, he thought to himself, did the neighbours not hear this? Were they used to this or did they just not care about the helpless gay teenager that had been held in their midst? It was either that or the walls were thicker than he'd originally thought.

It was hard to believe that no one had ever called the cops after hearing such heartbreaking sounds.

Blaine came out of the room a few minutes after the noises stopped with his head lowered and he shuffled over to Kurt, limping slightly. He started untying his ankles while muttering in a trembling, hoarse voice, "Please don't try to run. I don't think I could manage to stop you and he'll- he'll kill me and he'll find you and kill you too. Please Kurt... just _please_." At the pure helplessness and terror reflecting in Blaine's eyes he couldn't refuse. Kurt nodded his head and watched silently as Blaine untied the rope around his torso next, keeping a wobbly hand on his shoulder. "Come on."

Kurt watched Blaine's face as he was led past the room where Pierre had just raped Blaine and into the next room. The other boy's face was pale and stained with wet streaks trailing down his cheeks. He took note of the way Blaine kept his eyes carefully averted from the door of the room he'd just left moments before, as if he were trying to forget its very existence. He looked broken and a vice tightened around Kurt's heart at the thought.

Only moments after Blaine closed the door behind them they both heard the sound of a door opening nearby and Kurt looked at Blaine anxiously. Pierre couldn't want to hurt Blaine again already, could he?

Another thought invaded his mind and he felt his body start to tingle in fear. What if Pierre changed his mind about raping him too?

"He's just bolting us in," Blaine explained quickly, apparently noting the way Kurt's face immediately paled at the sound. True to his words the only sounds that came next were footsteps and the sliding of a bolt into place.

He pressed him into a sitting position on the bed while saying softly, "You can sleep here with me tonight, is that okay?"

Kurt nodded his head and let Blaine lay him down on the bed before pulling the thin covers over him. He felt Blaine slip into the bed too, before asking in a tiny, pained voice, "Can I hold you?"

Kurt rolled over and nodded his head, nestling closer to Blaine who wrapped his arms around him. He let out a relieved little sigh when Blaine pulled the scarf from his mouth and tossed it off to the side. "Thank you," he whispered in a quiet voice.

"You have to be quiet, okay?" Blaine told him quietly. "I only took it off because I thought it might be hard to sleep with it on."

"Okay," Kurt whispered with a thick swallow, before asking tearfully, "Blaine, are you okay?"

Blaine frowned. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"He-he just raped you, and you- I can tell that it hurt. You've been crying," Kurt whispered, pressing his face against Blaine's chest. "Blaine?"

Blaine smiled weakly, "I'm fine. He loves me."

"He loves you?" Kurt shook his head, turning it up so his eyes found Blaine's face. The tense muscles in the other boy's jaw betrayed the truth, no matter how much Blaine tried to downplay it. "I don't think so Blaine. If he loved you he would have cuddled with you on that couch. He would hold you. He wouldn't just have sex with you and then send you away to sleep somewhere else." He licked his lips. "He wouldn't make you cry when he has sex with you, and it's not just sex Blaine; whether you think so or not, its rape. He's been raping you."

He felt Blaine's body tremble against him, before a soft sob bubbled from his throat. He was silent as Blaine tucked his feverish face into the crook between his neck and shoulder and wetness started soaking into his clothing from the boy's tears.

"I want to go home," Blaine whispered between sobs.

"I know Blaine," Kurt whispered back to him in a small voice. "I do too." He let out a puff of breath, his own voice choking as he tried to reassure them both, "It'll be okay."

"No it won't," Blaine wept, holding Kurt tightly. "He'll never let me go, Kurt, never." He listened as Blaine gulped back another sob. "I'll be lucky if I can get him to let you go once he gets the ransom."

"Do you at least believe me now that he doesn't love you?" Kurt asked quietly.

Blaine bit down on his lip, holding on desperately to the thought, "He loves me Kurt. He does. He has to."

"He loves you, but he rapes and abuses you?" Kurt shook his head again. He took a deep breath, "You can't live like this Blaine."

"I have no choice-"

"You have a choice Blaine," Kurt hissed softly. "Next time he leaves you can untie me and we'll leave. We'll run. We'll go to the police. Your family needs you Blaine. You have no idea how much everyone misses you."

"I can't. He'll find me and he'll kill us," Blaine cried, squeezing Kurt even more tightly. "I can't, Kurt. I can't."

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><p><strong>AN**: The next chapter should be up February 14th (that's Valentine's Day) although I should warn you it's not a particularly romantic chapter. It's sad and angsty just like all the rest! By the way if you want to follow me on Twitter my username there is Nicbearosaurus too!

Anywho please review! (Yes I like to rhyme).


	6. Chapter 6: Regret

**Summary**: Two years ago Kurt's boyfriend was kidnapped and supposedly murdered. Two years ago Blaine was ripped away and brainwashed into believing his captor loved him. It's two years later and they've been reunited, but it's not everything they imagined it would be.

**Warning**: Non-explicit mentions of non-con (aftermath). Some violence as well.

**A/N**: Someone mentioned in a review a hope for an eventual silver lining/happy ending. I can promise you that there is hope for the boys yet, it just might take a bit to get there.

This chapter is a little different. The bold date isn't focused on Kurt this time, but on Blaine's family. I would have had Kurt there, but right now he doesn't exactly know what's going on. Also there's a shift in the regular text dated scenes to Finn/Rachel finding out about Kurt's situation. I could possibly be persuaded to post Chapter 7 early (maybe Wednesday night or Thursday morning) so you guys can have some Klaine-ness if you ask REALLY nicely. :P

As for the length of this chapter… wow did I really say the chapters in this story were going to be short, 'cause I think I lied. Every time I go back to edit they just keep getting _longer._

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><p>Chapter 6: Regret<p>

_August 2011_

Blaine's head hung down low against his chest as teardrops dampened his black work pants. His sobs were muffled and drowned out by the strip of tape still covering his mouth. How was it was even possible for the tears to still be coming? He'd been up all night, alone in the dark room and left to ruminate on what the man had called 'his punishment'; silently crying off and on the entire time.

He wanted to stop, especially before the man came back. It only ever served to make him angry and more volatile. He kept trying to suck back the salty wetness that slipped from his eyes, but it was difficult when his entire body was radiating with so much pain.

Even the slightest shift in movement felt like knives shooting through him. He'd tried staying still for a while, but even that didn't abate it much. That's why he was slumped over where he was bound to the chair, held up mostly by the thick adhesive holding him captive; the pain and lack of sleep had completely exhausted him.

The physical pain didn't even come close compared to the other pain; the pain that was currently surging through his chest and mind like tiny darts that crept from his bloodstream and into his skin. All the while it constricted a band over his heart, squeezing unbearably and yet he was still forced to bear it.

He shut his eyes tight, forcing himself to try to forget the short time he'd spent not taped to the chair. It had been a mistake to try and run. He didn't want to think about it. Now even if he made it home he'd never be the same.

His family would still love him, he hoped. He knew, or at least he used to know that his mother would never stop loving him. She'd told him as much when he'd come out, but she probably never expected this. It might be her exception. His brother was an ass who teased him non-stop but even he could see that there was never any real malice behind it. Even still, he couldn't imagine Joey wanting anything to do with him now.

His little sister would probably be heart-broken for him. She was always the most emotional of the bunch; the most sensitive and empathetic. She'd sobbed for days after the Sadie Hawkins dance. He'd be causing her so much pain and he could only imagine that one day she would resent him for it.

Then there was his father. They'd started talking more, but it was all still so awkward. He could tell his father wasn't exactly okay with him being gay, even though he was trying, and it was hard to imagine what he would think of what had happened to him.

He tried to tell himself his dad would know he hadn't wanted it; that he'd tried to fight back as much as he could while bound and beaten into submission, but he couldn't be sure.

Kurt would still love him. He knew that for sure. He knew/hoped Kurt would know that it hadn't been his choice; that he never would wilfully cheat on him. The other boy could be dramatic at times, well most of the time, but when it really mattered he was the most loving and kind person Blaine knew. However he also knew that their relationship, if he were ever to get home, would be inevitably changed. Kurt would want someone whole and undamaged, not the fragmented mess he was becoming. It didn't matter; he would never get home.

He sniffled and more droplets stained his slacks. The door creaked open and Blaine's head lifted slightly at the noise, his body stiffening in spite of his exhaustion.

The man stepped into the house without so much as giving him a glance, but Blaine watched him in compulsory silence. His head was still bowed slightly, but he watched through his eyelashes and the tears that clung to them. Somehow the man's sheer presence had been enough to stop the tears as his body ceased to focus purely on his pain and switched over to focus on mere survival.

His captor set down two duffel bags. One was empty and one looked relatively full. Almost immediately he left the house again, before returning with hands carrying several plastic bags. He started pulling clothes out of the plastic bags and stuffing them into the empty duffel bag.

He left out a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and an unopened plastic package of boxer briefs. It was only then that he looked up at Blaine. "What are you looking at?"

Immediately he averted his eyes, bowing his head down completely and staring at the circular wet drops on his dirty pants. He swallowed thickly and hoped that the man hadn't decided to punish him for staring.

A flinch shuddered through his body when he heard, rather than saw, the man rise to his feet and step towards him. A hand grasped his chin hard and pulled his head up until he was forced to stare into those icy blue eyes.

"Now," the man said in a rough voice, "my name is Pierre. You do what I say when I say it. You do not run. You don't do _anything_ unless I tell you to do it. If you do, you will regret it, just like you did last night. Do you understand?"

Blaine wasn't sure how he was supposed to answer. He couldn't nod his head or speak. Instead he blinked slowly and just looked at him.

"I'll take that as a yes," Pierre said with a chuckle and started peeling the tape back from his waist. Blaine sat stock still as the man then began un-taping his ankles again. This time he didn't move. He wasn't about to risk regretting anything again.

A hand grasped the front of his shirt and yanked him upward, making him let out a muffled yelp as pain shot through his back like a rod had been thrust up his spine. "Now come on. You're going to shower and change. You're disgusting."

He allowed himself, not that he actually had any choice, to be pushed limping down the hall before being shoved brusquely into the dingy tiled bathroom. The door slammed and he stared at the grainy wood for a long time, wondering how he was supposed to shower with his hands bound behind his back.

Then the door opened again and Pierre was there holding the clothes that hadn't been shoved in the duffel bag. He slapped them onto the side of the sink. "Turn around."

Blaine swallowed and obeyed, purely out of fear. His hands were freed after a moment and he immediately peeled the tape from over his mouth. Afterwards he just stood there, facing away from Pierre and staring at the shower.

"What are you waiting for?" Pierre asked him with a chuckle. "Waiting for me to leave? That's funny considering it's nothing I haven't seen before."

Blaine tensed and bowed his head, forcing himself to stay stoic. It was obvious that Pierre could see his fear, but he was going to do his damned best not to let the man see him cry again. Any display of weakness only seemed to egg him on or piss him off and as he'd learned, neither was desirable.

A hand wrapped around the back of his neck and yanked him backward. He felt the other man's body pressed against his, an arm wrapped tightly around his waist to hold him there as Pierre's head leant down next to his. He quaked while Pierre whispered darkly into his ear, "I'll leave you this time, but don't always expect me to be this accommodating. You have a half hour."

Suddenly the presence was gone and the door slammed.

"Oh God," he let out the words in a whisper, pressing his palms against his eyes as if they would keep the tears at bay. They did, for the moment.

He turned to the dusty bathroom mirror and wiped it off with a hand, only to wish he hadn't. Half of his face had turned a deep violent purple and there was a little trail of crusted blood on his brow. He looked down at his shoulder and grimaced at the swelling that he could see even underneath his white work shirt. Even some of the bruising was peeking through.

He tried to move it and let out a small gasp. How had he not noticed that before? He took a small step backward and the reason was immediately apparent as the _other_ pain flared back up at the movement.

He trembled; one fist clenched tightly for a long moment before starting to slowly peel his filthy clothing off his aching body and hoping that the door would not open again.

He didn't want to be weak, but he was terrified and nothing could seem to stop the tears from collecting in his eyes again. "You're alive," he murmured to himself as he tried to at least keep them from falling. "As long as you're alive you have hope."

"There's still time," he whispered out loud softly as he tried to manoeuvre into the shower without causing any more pain to flare up. In the end he had to clutch the windowsill with his good arm to keep from falling, but he kept up his whispering. "Dad'll call the police anyway."

"Someone can still save you." He turned on the faucet and let the warm water wash over him and slid tinged pink into the drain.

He grabbed the cracked bar of soap, squeezing it tightly between his hand. "You're damaged," he mumbled fervently to the scummy shower walls, "but you're not broken. There's still hope. You're _not_ broken. There's still _hope_."

As long as he lived there was some hope. There had to be. So, he just had to keep himself living long enough for someone to save him. He just hoped it was soon.

* * *

><p>September 2013<p>

Rachel Berry paced around her shared apartment with a frown on her face. Her eyes flickered to the clock on the wall and let out a frustrated growl. She looked over to where Finn was sitting on the couch with a game controller in his hand, "Are you not worried at all?"

Finn lowered the controller slightly as he paused the game, "Kay, maybe he's a little late, but it's Kurt. He probably saw a sale or something and lost track of time. He's always going on about how awesome sales are here."

"Finnegan Chri-"

"Aw come on, don't use my full name," he pouted softly, sticking out his lower lip. "You know I hate it when you do that. It makes you sound like my mom and that's totally not hot." He set down the controller. "Do you want me to try to call him again?"

She sighed and shook her head, sinking onto the couch next to her boyfriend, "No. I just called him. It went straight to voicemail." She chewed on her lip slightly, "I'm getting kind of worried about him Finn. He never does stuff like this. He always at least calls first when he's running late and it's getting really late."

"Rach, he's fine-"

Finn's cell phone rang and he wrinkled his nose at the interruption when he saw it was his step-dad calling and not Kurt, before answering it with a quiet, "Lo?"

"Where's your brother?" His step-father didn't bother with a greeting. "Tell me he's there with you."

"Burt?" Finn's eyes shot to Rachel's. "Um, no- he's not here. He's late getting home, why?"

"Finn," Burt's voice lowered seriously. "I just got a very disturbing phone call from Kurt. I need you to tell me if you have any idea where he is, at all, okay?"

"No- I have no clue," he frowned deeply at the phone. "What kind of phone call?"

"Finn it was a ransom call," Burt said tightly. "Somebody kidnapped him."

"No way," Finn nearly dropped the phone in shock, his eyes locking on Rachel's. "Do you want me to call the police here? Should I go looking for him? Burt?"

"No, no, no," Burt stopped him immediately, "Finn, don't talk to the cops, alright? He said not to… that they would hurt him if we did. Don't go looking either. I can't have you in danger too. What I need from you, Finn," Burt explained in a thick voice, "is to make something up about why Kurt's not showing up to work or class. I'm going to need to send you the ransom money too, once I find it. They called me here, so I expect when they have the instructions they'll be calling them to me here, oth-otherwise I'd just come up there. I'll tell you what you need to do as soon as I find out." There was a pause, "I hate to put this all on you, but I don't know what to do. Finn- Finn, can you do all that for me?"

"Um yeah," he breathed out softly as the information slowly sank in. He knew there was no way he could talk to the police. He remembered all too clearly that a police squad car passing at the wrong time had caused Blaine's death, "Of course." He licked his lips a moment, before asking, "Was he okay?"

"He said he was," Burt answered quietly, sounding unsure if that was actually the case. He took in a quiet breath, "I can- I can only imagine what he's feeling right now- especially since he knows-"

"Blaine," Finn finished for him, swallowing thickly, "Oh God. He's got to be terrified."

Rachel's eyes widened at the mention of the boy who'd been kidnapped and supposedly murdered two years before.

"Look Finn, I've got to go. I need- I need to find some way to get the money together. Just- take of yourself, okay? I love you kid."

"Love you too," Finn murmured, hanging up the phone after he was met with the dial tone. He licked his lips again nervously as he looked over at his girlfriend of two years.

"Finn?" She asked him in a worried voice, slipping her hand into his, "Why would Kurt be terrified and why did you mention Blaine?"

He watched as her teeth chewed anxiously on her lower lip and squeezed her hand. It was obvious that she already had a firm idea of what was going on. He let a slight wince find his face as he confirmed her fears in a soft voice, "I was wrong. He's not fine. Burt- Burt called. He said Kurt's been kidnapped and there was a ransom call." He pulled her close to him, "We're not allowed to call the cops or they'll hurt him."

He felt the short girl press herself even closer to him. "No," she whispered softly, shaking her head against his chest. "This can't be happening again Finn. It just can't."

"It'll be different this time, I promise," he tried to reassure her as much as he was trying to reassure himself. "Burt'll send me the money and I'll give it to them and they'll let him go. You'll see. He'll be fine. Everything will be fine."

"He's my best friend-"

"I know," he held her close and started rocking her back and forth comfortingly, unsure who he was comforting, her or himself, "I know Rach, I know."

"Finn," she whispered as he stroked a hand over her hair softly, "I know- I know we're not supposed to call the police, but we need to call somebody. I can't- you can't go out there by yourself- it's dangerous. We need somebody to help us."

Eyes locking on hers he let out tremulously, "Rachel, we can't. They- what if whoever it is finds out and kills Kurt- we can't call the police- not even-"

"He'll help us," she whispered fervently, cutting off his protests. "He's got all the training for stuff like this- and I know he'll help us unofficially. You know he will. He and Kurt are close now. He'd never let what happen to Blaine happen to Kurt. He can help us. He can make sure we do everything right-"

"I can't lose him Rachel. I can't lose my brother. I just can't!" Hands threaded through his hair in misery as his face screwed up and his fingers pulled lightly on his scalp.

"You know he'll do everything to make sure you don't," she insisted, her voice softening at Finn's distress. "He'll do whatever it takes for Kurt- he will. You know he will and we can't do this alone. We just can't."

Finn let out a small sigh, "Alright, I'll call him." He shook his head a little, "You know this is going to bring all the pain back for him?"

"I know," she murmured with a thick swallow, "but it would hurt him even more if he lost Kurt too."

Finn nodded his head and bit his lip as he reached for the home phone on the small stand and pulled out Kurt's address book from the drawer underneath it. He dialled carefully before waiting for an answer.

"This is Joey Anderson speaking," a voice picked up in a low, slightly tinny tone.

"Um Joey, this is Finn Hudson, Kurt's brother. I need your help. Can you come to New York?" Finn asked quickly at Rachel's prompting.

"Look Finn, I can't just leave. I have a wife and a baby to look after," Joey told him in a firm voice. "Look if you really need some help I can make some calls for you- get you in touch with a trustworthy officer in New York-"

"It needs to be you," Finn lowered his voice softly. "Kurt's been kidnapped and- we- we need to make sure we do everything right," he paraphrased Rachel's pitch softly. "I can't lose him Joey. You know what that's like."

"Damn it," Joey's voice wavered over the phone. "How long did they give you?"

"A week," Finn answered in a whisper. "Can you help us?"

He heard the sound of a deep breath, "Just let me talk to Vanessa first. I'll ask if Bri minds helping her out with B.B. while I'm gone. I'll be there as soon as possible." There was a small pause over the phone, "We're going to get him back Finn. This time is going to be different."

"I hope you're right about that," Finn murmured back, wrapping his arm around Rachel's shoulders and holding her closely.

She swallowed thickly and looked up at him, "We have another phone call to make."

Finn looked at her blankly for a moment.

"Bradley," she spoke breathlessly. "We can't get away with just telling him Kurt's sick or something. Maybe we can't tell him the truth, but we have to tell him _something; _something he'll actually _believe. _He's going to get concerned or suspicious or something if Kurt suddenly drops out of his life, texts and all._"_

He grimaced and ran a hand over his face, "Damn."

* * *

><p><strong>August 2011<strong>

Leo Anderson dived for the phone when it rang, his wife close at his heels. His older son and young daughter were not far behind, standing a few feet away anxiously as he pressed the earpiece against his face, "Hello, Anderson Residence."

An unfamiliar voice came through the phone, "Hello Leo. I see you've been waiting for my call."

He swallowed thickly and answered very carefully, "That depends on what you're calling about."

"Why I'm calling about your son of course," the man's voice let out a humourless laugh. "He's very eager to get home. He keeps giving me those sad puppy-dog eyes of his. Unfortunately for him it's going to take a little more than puppy-dog eyes for me to let him go, isn't it?"

"I have a quarter million reasons for you to let him go," he spoke clearly into the phone, his hand clutching around it until his knuckles started turning white.

"See that might do it," the man chuckled again. "Now I hope you have a paper and a pen handy Anderson, because I have some instructions for you."

"Bianca," he turned to his wife quickly, "I need a pen and paper."

The raven haired woman at his side started digging through a drawer, but almost immediately his teenage daughter shoved a notebook at him along with a fuzzy pink pen. "I'm ready."

"Tomorrow evening at nine o'clock I want you to wait for me in the alleyway by BRP Manufacturing on North Jackson Street. I want the money in hundreds and they better not be marked in any way. I'll be checking before I give you your boy back. If I so much as hear or see a hint of a police presence, your boy's dead, do you understand me?"

"Perfectly," he murmured quickly as he wrote down the information, before driving on to ask, "Can we talk to him?"

"No, and who the hell is 'we'? There better not being any cops there-"

"It's just our family, no cops and we need to know he's still alive," Leo argued quickly. "I won't give you a cent-"

"Fine, give me a second," the man growled into the phone, sounding irate.

Leo took the moment to gather his family around and put the phone on speaker. He bit down on his lip and waited impatiently for his son's voice to come over the phone.

When it did the first thing he heard was sobbing.

"Blaine?" He spoke urgently, "Blaine we're all here. We've got the money so you don't have to be scared anymore. You get to come home tomorrow night, isn't that good news?"

"Dad," he heard his boy whisper hoarsely. "I wanna come home. I wanna come home."

"You will, tomorrow, I promise," he soothed in a gentle voice, his eyes flickering around to his family. He could only hope hearing their voices would help calm his hysterical son. "Your mother, your brother and your sister are here too. Do you want to talk to them?"

"I just want to come home Daddy." The voice broke down even further with choking sobs. "It hurts so much. I can't do it again. I just can't."

His brow furrowed, almost not wanting to know what his son was talking about. "Blaine I need you to listen to me. We're going to bring you home tomorrow and we'll fix whatever hurts, alright? It's okay. It's going to be okay."

"No it's not," he heard his son whisper, sounding shattered. "Nothing's okay."

"Baby boy," Bianca leaned closer to the phone, addressing her son in a gentle tone, "we just need you to stay strong a little longer, okay? Just a little bit longer. Then you can stay home for as long as you want and rest up. We'll all take care of you. I'll even get you a little bell or something and you can ring it whenever you need us. We'll all wait on you hand and foot and Kurt can come over and stay with you for as long as you want; the rest of the summer even. How does that sound?"

"Mama," Blaine's voice came whispering over the phone. "I love you Mama."

"I love you too Baby boy," she murmured soothingly into the phone. "I'll always love you; always. I-I'll see you soon."

"Blaine-o," Brianna's scrambled forward when her mother fell silent, shaking with little sobs. "I cleaned your room for you so it'll be perfect when you get home. I'll tell you a secret too, I got you your birthday present already and I'll let you have it early when you come home, okay? It's a signed copy of a first edition of 'Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone' and I managed to find 'Fantastical Beasts and Where to Find Them' to go with it. Mom let me use her credit card to buy it all on E-Bay."

There was the sound of Blaine choking back a sob, probably trying to sound brave for his little sister. "That's sweet Bri, thanks. I can't wait to- to see them. I love you Sisaroo."

"I love you too Blaine-o. I'll see you tomorrow night. Like Dad said, you don't need to be scared anymore. He's going to come get you," she spoke encouragingly, trying to sound upbeat, before motioning to her oldest brother.

"Hey Blainers," Joey swallowed down the lump in his throat. "I'm sorry I didn't give you that ride. I'll be your personal chauffeur for the rest of your life if you want me to."

Blaine didn't respond in words, instead starting to let out little panting breaths that faded into more sobs.

"Blainers please don't hate me. I'm sorry. I never thought- I didn't think this would happen," Joey pleaded into the phone desperately. "I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, I promise. I'll be a proper big brother from now on. I-I know I haven't told you often enough, but you're my baby brother, and I love you, alright?"

"Times up," a different voice spoke into the phone, chuckling. "What a heart-warming little speech. Too bad Blainey didn't quite get to hear it, huh?"

"You bastard, give me back my brother-"

"I will tomorrow night when your dad gives me my money," the man snapped angrily. "In the meantime I think you ought to be nice considering I got this nice, shiny gun pressed against your little brother's skull, don't you think?"

"Please-"

"Tomorrow night Mr. Anderson," the voice directed itself at Leo. "Nine o'clock. Be there or I'll blow your little boy's head off. Goodnight."

Leo sank the phone back down onto the receiver and looked around at his family's pale faces. His wife's eyes were glittering with unshed tears and had a hand pressed to her mouth. He took a step forward and carefully wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close. "We'll get our boy home Bianca, I promise."

"He sounded so scared," she whispered in a hoarse voice, leaning into her husband. "He's hurt Leo. He's hurt."

"I know, I know, but he's tough my love. He'll be okay," he tried to reassure her carefully, bringing his eyes up to see his oldest child and youngest child embracing tearfully. He raised his voice a little, adding Brianna and Joey into the address, "Blaine will be okay. He will. I know it."

Maybe if he said it enough he would begin to believe it.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Remember if you don't ask (for an early chapter) you shan't receive! But seriously I'll post on Friday anyway so don't feel obliged… wait yes, feel obliged, I like reviews.

P.S. If I post chapter 7 early than chapter 8 will come on Friday instead of next Tuesday.

Mmm, also a question. Now that Blaine's brother's name is revealed do you think I should change it? I'm kind of partial to Joey, but I mean what's in a name, right?


	7. Chapter 7: Dead

**Summary**: Two years ago Kurt's boyfriend was kidnapped and supposedly murdered. Two years ago Blaine was ripped away and brainwashed into believing his captor loved him. Its two years later and they've been reunited, but it's not everything they imagined it would be.

**Warning**: Non-explicit mentions of non-con. Some violence as well.

**A/N**: I got some great news today! I've been looking for a new apartment for months and I finally got one! Yay! There's more good news, although it's obvious if you're reading this; I updated! Well you guys did ask, so I'm keeping my promise and updating early. Thank you all for the kind reviews and I really hope you enjoy this chapter.

* * *

><p>Chapter 7: Dead<p>

_August 2011_

It was impossibly dark, but that made sense considering the thick cloth that was tied around his head over his eyes. He knew by the fact that the vehicle had stopped vibrating against his aching body and that Pierre had opened and slammed the door that they'd arrived at their destination.

It was the day of the ransom drop. It was the day he would die and Pierre would run from Ohio with the ransom money. It made him almost glad that he'd mostly said his goodbyes to his family yesterday, even if the phone had been yanked from him before he could get himself together enough to talk to his brother.

It had been hard enough to form words through the excruciating pain at all considering he'd just finished being raped for the second time moments before Pierre had decided to call his family. Then the man had taken pleasure in making everything more difficult and had started stroking his backside while Joey was talking to him.

He closed his eyes under the blindfold and shook his head back and forth ever so slightly. He couldn't think about it now. He had to focus on survival; on somehow escaping or aiding in his (hopeful) rescue.

He moved his jaw, trying to work the strip of tape over his mouth loose. He'd been working at it for hours; from the moment he'd known Pierre was going to take him with him on the drop. He just hoped that his parents had set up some kind of police sting during it.

If he could distract Pierre than maybe the police could surprise him; then Blaine would be rescued. It was the only chance he had and he clung to it no matter how miniscule it was.

The tape peeled slightly from one side of his mouth and he listened carefully for his father's voice. He knew without a doubt that his dad would never allow his mother to go on such a dangerous mission.

He nearly fainted with relief when he heard his father speak, "I want to see Blaine. I want to make sure he's okay before I give you a dime."

He heard the door to the back of the van slide open and a hand yanked him to his feet. He stumbled out of the vehicle until he found his feet. He stood awkwardly, his lower back burning with pain and very aware that something cold and round was pressed against his temple. That didn't even take into account the vice-like grip squeezing painfully around his bicep.

"Oh my God, what did you do to him?" He heard his father exclaim and he automatically turned his head in the direction the voice came from. Obviously his father had seen the scrapes and bruises that were lining his face and arms.

"Nothing he won't heal from," Pierre growled out, tightening his grip on his bicep. "Hand over the money Pops."

"I'm on time," his father's voice was bordering on hysterical. "You said you wouldn't hurt him if I was on time-"

"I never said I wouldn't hurt him if he misbehaved," Pierre's voice was low, with a dark lacing of amusement. "Now hand over the money before I do more than just hurt your boy here."

"Blaine," he heard his father's voice start, sounding much more gentle now that it was addressed at him, "are you okay buddy? You can just nod yes or no."

He raised his head up slightly, wishing he could see his father's face. He didn't know what to do. He was alive and he didn't have any life threatening injuries at the moment, but he wasn't okay. In the end he just stood still, trembling in the cool night air.

"I'm waiting here Pops," Pierre cut in, jerking him a little closer and tapping the gun lightly against his temple.

"Let- let Blaine come halfway and I'll bring the money over," his father bargained softly. "I need to know he'll be safe. I need to know you won't go back on your word."

Blaine worked at the tape but it simply wouldn't come loose.

"You're just going to have to trust me Anderson," Pierre told him in a smug tone. "I am the one holding a gun to your child's head."

Blaine shuddered when he heard the click of the gun being cocked.

"I'd suggest you hand over the money Anderson, or do you want to hear about how good a lay your little boy is?" The cruel, taunting words were let out with a loud laugh and he tilted his head down, tears dampening his blindfold. At least neither his father nor Pierre could see or hear his tears this time. That at least was something.

"Y-you what?" His father was spluttering. "You bastard; I'll kill you-"

"I'm the one with the gun here Pops," Pierre reminded him ominously, pressing the gun a little more firmly against his head. "Just be happy you're getting him back at all. Now give me my money."

"How could you? He's not much more than a child!"

"Give me my money!"

A faint sound rose in the distance and he felt Pierre's grasp on him stiffen.

Suddenly the grip tightened even more and he was yanked backward and thrown back into the van before he could fall limp as he'd planned. He heard his dad screaming his name, "Blaine!"

He tried to scream back, but it was muffled.

A gunshot went off in the van and he heard his dad scream his name again, this time more desperately. "Blaine!"

"You killed him!" He heard Pierre scream at his father through the van window. "You called the police and killed your own son!"

"No! No! I didn't, I promise-" his father's pleas were cut off by the start of the van and the wailing of a police siren. Fists banged on the side door, but faded when he was thrown against the side of the vehicle as it peeled out of the parking lot.

Pierre didn't even realize until they were half way out of Ohio that no one had followed him. Blaine however had realized the moment the bullet had passed over his head and missed him, that the other duffel bag had always been for him.

He would live, but he would never be free.

* * *

><p><strong>August 2011<strong>

Kurt jumped for the phone when he saw that an unknown number was calling him. Usually he didn't answer those calls in case they were the cruel anonymous sort, but it had been a week and today was the day that Blaine was supposed to be off his grounding.

He pressed the phone to his ear after he accepted the call and answered, "Hello? Blaine is that you?"

"Actually this is his brother," a choked voice spoke through the phone. "Is this his boyfriend? This is Kurt, right?"

All the excitement drained from his body and he asked in a thick voice, "Yes. So- Joey, right? Why are you calling me? Where's Blaine?"

"Look Kurt," the voice choked off, as if he was unable to finish the sentence. There was a long pause before Joey Anderson spoke again, "maybe you should come to the house."

"Where's Blaine?" Kurt asked again, this time more softly. All the possible situations were running through his head and none of them were particularly good. What if he'd gotten beaten up or jumped or- he stopped his thinking. If any of those things had happened wouldn't Joey be telling him to head to the hospital instead of the house?

Maybe it was just a misunderstanding and Blaine was angry for some reason; too angry to talk to him on the phone. He bit down on his lip, it wasn't ideal, but it was better than the thoughts running rampant in his mind.

"I should have gone to pick him up," Joey whispered in a quiet voice. There was another pause, before he added, "Just come over Kurt. We need to talk."

"Okay." That definitely didn't sound like Blaine was angry with him. It just sounded ominous. He hung up the phone and grabbed his jacket, throwing it on before running for the door. "Dad I'm going to Blaine's."

"Don't be too late," he heard his father call back to him.

To say he drove like a maniac would have been an understatement and if he hadn't been so worried he would have joked that he'd driven like Finn.

As his car pulled into the Anderson's driveway he noticed that several police cars were parked on the side of the road. Two of them had their lights flashing. He stepped out of his car, his stomach doing flips and tumbles that rivalled the Cheerios' routines.

A uniformed officer put up a hand to hold him back, "Sorry kid. You can't go in."

"But-" Kurt started in a soft voice, "Joey Anderson called me. He told me to come here." His breathing faltered, "What's going on here?"

"I can't discuss that kid," the officer told him with a short shake of his head. He removed his cell phone and made a short call, saying, "There's a kid here. Says the Anderson boy told him to come?" He paused, before looking at Kurt and asking, "What's your name?"

"Kurt Hummel," Kurt murmured, his eyes searching the area for some kind of clue to what was going on.

He could tell that whatever it was; it wasn't good. Something horrible had happened and no one was letting Blaine say a word to him.

The officer gave a short nod, "Go on in kid. Sorry to hold you up."

Kurt stepped inside the house and looked around tentatively. When he stepped into the living room he stopped at the sight of three of the Andersons. Fourteen year old Brianna Anderson was curled into her father, eyes red and her body shaking with silent sobs.

Blaine's mother was sitting there on the couch beside her husband and daughter, staring ahead, almost as if a movement would make her fall to pieces.

A movement caught his attention off to the side and immediately his eyes looked upon a boy he'd met a few times before. Joey Anderson was twenty-two years old and had mercilessly and playfully, teased both he and Blaine the entire summer.

He was basically an older, taller Blaine, but with a less serious personality. As a matter of fact Kurt had never seen him serious until now. It was weird not to see the older boy smiling, or teasing anyone for that matter.

"Kurt," Joey said quietly, licking his lips.

Kurt took in the older boy's face, noticing his eyes no longer sparkled mischievously, but were red with tears and there were wet streaks on his cheeks. "Joey, what's going on?"

A hand reached out and rested on Kurt's shoulder, "I can't talk about this here. My parents and my sister- they're- I don't think they can hear it again."

"Hear what?" Kurt asked, tears building in his eyes. He could only imagine what Joey was about to tell him. His body started to shake as Joey led him up the stairs and into Blaine's bedroom. "Why isn't Blaine here? Why is everyone so upset?"

"Kurt," Joey whispered in a small voice that broke over his name, "Blaine- last night." He shook his head, "Last week someone kidnapped Blaine while he was walking home. I was using his car since I left mine at school. He called me to give him a ride, but- but I was busy. I was too busy for my little brother."

Kurt's heart plummeted into his stomach, "Kidnapped?"

Joey nodded his head, sinking onto Blaine's bed. "They wanted a quarter million dollars. Last night my dad went to pay it, but- but there was a police car nearby that had its sirens going. I guess some kids broke into the old elementary school around there. The- the man who took him thought my dad had called the police."

"Joey," Kurt's voice cracked and his eyes widened as tears gathered in the corner of his eyes. "What are you saying? Your dad can still pay, right? He can get Blaine back! He has to, right? He has to. I mean Blaine wouldn't be worth anything to that guy d-"

"Kurt," sobs were bubbling up in the older boy's throat and Joey dropped his face into his hands. "He is dead. That man killed him. My dad heard the shot. He told me and my mom that- that he thinks that- it sounds like he may have been raped first."

"No," the word slipped out and he found himself crashing to the floor as his legs gave out underneath him. "You're lying. What kind of sick joke is this? This isn't funny Joey. This isn't funny at all!"

Blaine's brother moved from the bed and sank to his knees beside him and helped him into a sitting position, "I wish I was joking Kurt."

Kurt's entire body shook and he didn't fight it when the university student pulled him into him arms. Instead he collapsed into the other boy, tears staining his cheeks as his chest shook with sobs. It felt like his heart had just shattered in his chest. He could feel the other boy's pain too, radiating off him as Joey's loud choking sobs blew past his ears.

"I should have- have just," Joey stopped, his voice trembling, "I should have just- driven him home." They squeezed each other tighter, holding onto each other like it might hold them together, "My little brother."

"Blaine, Blaine… He can't be gone," Kurt heard himself sobbing out quietly, clutching Joey and wishing he were Blaine, "He can't be."

* * *

><p>September 2013<p>

Kurt blinked his eyes open slowly in the dark room. He moved to stretch out his arms, but some invisible force held them behind his back. He frowned and let out a wince, remembering the events of the previous night.

He'd been kidnapped by his supposedly dead, somewhat brainwashed, former boyfriend and the man who'd conditioned him.

He rolled over carefully and set his feet on the ground before standing up. He wobbled a little, but managed to stay on his feet. Pressing his lips together he took a look around Blaine's room. It wasn't quite as bare as the rest of the apartment. Unlike the other parts of the apartment there were bars on the window, but somehow that didn't seem like a decorative choice; or one of Blaine's at all. Blaine was currently living a life without choices and now so was he.

There were a few ratty looking posters taped to the wall and a grainy photo printed on regular paper that Kurt recognized from his Facebook page.

It was of him and Blaine at prom. Blaine's eyes were squinty from the flash and that gaudy prom queen tiara was perched on his own head.

He bit down on his lip. Just seeing that photo send a myriad of emotions flittering through his chest and he wasn't sure what to do with them. He swallowed them down as best he could. He needed to get both himself and Blaine out of here alive and it would only get more difficult if he let his emotions overwhelm him. Instead he stepped towards the door and turned sideways to awkwardly turn the doorknob with his bound hands, hoping it wasn't still bolted shut.

It wasn't and he padded down the hall towards the living room, hoping that he didn't run into Pierre. All he wanted was to see Blaine, and maybe have some breakfast. Oh yeah- and go home.

"Blaine?" He whispered from the hallway, looking towards the kitchen.

The other boy was there, frying up some eggs and bacon and smiled when they locked eyes. "Hey, you got out."

Kurt lowered his eyes and shrugged with some difficulty, "I managed." He looked up again for a quick moment, "That breakfast? I'm hungry."

"Yeah," Blaine set down the frying pan and took a few steps towards him and pressed his hands on Kurt's shoulders, turning him towards the chair he'd been tied to the day before. "Here, sit down." He tied some of the rope around Kurt's torso and the chair. "Just wait here while I finish up."

Kurt raised an eyebrow sarcastically as Blaine immediately went back to preparing breakfast, "Sure. It's not like I'm going anywhere or anything."

Blaine just frowned at him, not answering as he flipped a few slices of bacon.

Kurt looked around quietly, before venturing to ask, "Where's Pierre?"

"Sleeping. He only got up long enough to let me out," Blaine shrugged his shoulders before turning to the fridge and pulling out a carton of orange juice. "He'll be up soon. I wouldn't be so sarcastic when he's awake either if I were you. Actually I'd talk as little as possible. He's not a morning person."

Kurt wasn't sure if Pierre was _any_ kind of person, let alone a morning one, but he kept that to himself. Instead he just murmured, "Thanks for the warning." He paused for a long moment, before asking, "Why don't you just leave Blaine? Why don't we just take off now while he's still sleeping?"

Blaine shuddered and shook his head, "I can't."

"How are you so sure he'll find you?" Kurt growled at him. "New York is a big city Blaine. We could-"

"No!" Blaine cut him off roughly, as he smacked the juice carton down onto the table in front of him shaking the table.

The action startled Kurt and his eyes widened as Blaine continued speaking in a voice that sounded frantic for him to understand. "I tried that Kurt. Trust me, I tried that. He found me within hours and I spent the nearly all of next month tied to my bed other than the occasional bathroom break. I barely got to eat and I barely slept because I always _hurt_ so much. I don't want to get beaten Kurt and the easiest way to avoid that is to be good and do what I'm told." He took in several deep breaths, "I know you think it would be easy to just leave, but trust me, it's not. I don't want to get hurt and I don't want to get you killed, alright?"

Kurt stared up at him, his eyes softening with tears, "Alright."

* * *

><p><strong>August 2011<strong>

"Woah Kiddo," Kurt's father stopped him the moment he stepped into the house. Burt took his son's red rimmed eyes and tearstained cheeks. "What's wrong? You and Blaine get into a fight?"

At the other boy's name his son burst into fresh tears, shaking his head and stumbling into his father's arms.

"Blaine didn't- hurt you or anything, did he?" Burt asked after a moment, rubbing his back gently. He didn't want to believe badly of his son's boyfriend but something had to have happened to make Kurt this upset. He couldn't remember the last time he son had been so speechless with tears.

"I need-" Kurt whispered desperately, his weight sagging, "I need to sit down. I can't- I can't do this."

Immediately Burt led and half supported his only biological child over to the living room where Finn was sitting on the couch. The taller boy immediately leapt to his feet, allowing Burt to settle Kurt's sobbing form where he'd just been sitting.

"Dude, what happened?" Finn asked, his face creasing in concern as he looked to his step-dad.

"I don't know. He won't tell me," Burt murmured, sitting next to his son and allowing him to crawl back into his arms. He turned his attention back so it was solely on Kurt. "Come on Kid, I need you to tell me what's wrong. I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong." He paused for a moment, "Did Blaine do something?"

Kurt nodded his head ever so slightly.

"What'd he do Kurt?" Burt asked softly, heat rising in his face.

Kurt let out another choking sob, "He died."

He squeezed his arms around his son more tightly. "I'm sorry Kurt. I'm sorry," he murmured comfortingly, the heat sinking into a cold murky pool of grief in his stomach. He'd genuinely liked his son's boyfriend and had grown to care about him like a third son.

"Dude, Blaine killed himself?" Finn looked stunned, stumbling into a sitting position on the couch as well. "But- but he seemed fine."

Kurt shook his head again, sobbing more heavily. "He didn't kill himself," he managed to choke out, burrowing his head against his father's shoulder.

"I- Was there a car accident?" Finn asked, his shoulders slumping downward heavily.

"Finn, let him be," Burt admonished, although not unkindly, his hand making small circles on Kurt's back.

"He was- he wasn't grounded," Kurt whispered suddenly, his jaw trembling.

"What do you mean?" Burt asked, stiffening a little at the tone as the murky pool in his stomach starting to swirl and churn. He could already tell that bad news was about to get worse.

"Someone- someone took him and his parents tried to pay, but- but," he broke down into sobs again momentarily. He choked them back, before forcing himself to finish, "There was a police car nearby and he- he killed him."

"God kid, I'm sorry," Burt whispered, not knowing what else he could say to try to bring his son some peace. He knew exactly what it was like to lose the one you loved to suddenly and violently. He'd lost his Elizabeth to a drunk driver and it broke his heart to see his son reliving that same pain so young.

"He must have been so scared," Kurt whispered, sniffling brokenly. "I can't imagine- oh God."

"Kurt-"

"Please don't tell me it's going to be okay, because it's not," Kurt spoke suddenly, pulling away from his father to reveal just how blotchy his face had become due to his wailing. "That man- Joey said- Joey said they think that bastard raped him first." The anger drained from his voice. "Blaine- I can't even imagine- I need him Dad. I need him." He fell back into his father's arms, apparently exhausted from grief.

"Burt," Finn started in a soft voice, still looking stunned. Distress was now also lining his face. "Burt what do I do?"

"Call your mother," he told the boy thickly, his arms closing around Kurt once more and holding him tightly. He couldn't imagine Kurt being able to handle anything more than simply surviving the next couple of weeks until the pain started to slowly numb. Even then it would still be unbearable.

Finn nodded, before asking in a small voice, "Blaine's not really dead right? It's just- just a misunderstanding?"

"I don't think so Finn," Burt let out a forlorn sigh. "I really wish it was, but I don't think we're going to be that lucky."

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: So the next Chapter will be up on Friday February 17th. Please drop me a review.


	8. Chapter 8: Bloodshed

** _S_ummary**: Two years ago Kurt's boyfriend was kidnapped and supposedly murdered. Two years ago Blaine was ripped away and brainwashed into believing his captor loved him. It's two years later and they've been reunited, but it's not everything they imagined it would be.

**Warning**: Non-explicit mentions of non-con. Some violence as well.

**A/N**: Sorry to give this to you so late in the day but I sprained my wrist yesterday when my driveway attacked me with a patch of ice (I fell) making editing this take longer than usual. I'm sorry if I missed any mistakes/typos as well, but it's hard to type. I promise to go back and look it over again tomorrow after work! There is a song in this one, but I've shortened it a lot and there's not going to be a lot of songs in this story. There's just this one and another one closer to the end of the story. That's it, I promise. I also promise that there is at least a semi-happy ending, but that's all I'm going to tell you for now!

Also I promise my goal in life is not to make you guys cry, so I'm sorry if I did. I just needed to get this story out, as heartbreaking as it is.

* * *

><p>Chapter 8: Bloodshed<p>

**September 2011**

Kurt recognized her the moment she stepped into the choir room, even if he was a little taken aback by the cheerleading uniform the young girl was wearing and that way her usually loose black ringlets were tied back tightly in the obligatory Cheerio ponytail. It didn't compare to the surprise he held at the hard look on her face.

He hadn't seen Brianna since the memorial service several weeks before, but somehow in that short amount of time she looked completely changed.

He watched as she surveyed the club and her eyes softened very slightly when they locked on his, "Hi Kurt." Her voice was sharper than he remembered.

"Hi Bri," he greeted in a soft voice.

Her eyes looked over the club again, before looking at Mr. Schue for a moment, "So I'm here to audition. I know you probably don't usually do auditions as duets, but whatever. Kurt, will you sing with me?"

He blinked stupidly for a moment, "What? We haven't practiced-"

"Wish You Were Here," she said abruptly, reminding him. It was the song they'd sung together at the memorial service.

"Of course." He stood up and noticed the weird looks the rest of his friends were giving him. He walked over and stood next to Brianna, before saying quietly, "Guys this is my friend Brianna Anderson; Blaine's little sister."

Brianna shook her head at the sudden recognition that came over their faces.

Kurt watched as she cut off any attempts at encouraging or comforting words by opening her mouth and singing out.

_I can be tough  
>I can be strong<br>But with you, it's not like that at all_

_There's a girl_  
><em>That gives a shit<em>  
><em>Behind this wall<em>  
><em>You just walk through it<em>

He let his voice pick up along with hers, not moving at all but just letting his emotion pour out through his voice as she did the same.

_And I remember all those crazy things you said_  
><em>You left them running through my head<em>  
><em>You're always there, you're everywhere<em>  
><em>But right now I wish you were here.<em>  
><em>All those crazy things we did<em>  
><em>Didn't think about it, just went with it<em>  
><em>You're always there, you're everywhere<em>  
><em>But right now I wish you were here<em>

_Damn, Damn, Damn,_  
><em>What I'd do to have you<em>  
><em>Here, here, here<em>  
><em>I wish you were here.<em>  
><em>Damn, Damn, Damn<em>  
><em>What I'd do to have you<em>  
><em>Near, near, near<em>  
><em>I wish you were here.<em>

_I love the way you are_  
><em>It's who I am, don't have to try hard<em>  
><em>We always say, say it like it is<em>  
><em>And the truth, is that I really miss<em>

_All those crazy things you said_  
><em>You left them running through my head<em>  
><em>You're always there, you're everywhere<em>  
><em>But right now I wish you were here.<em>  
><em>All those crazy things we did<em>  
><em>Didn't think about it, just went with it<em>  
><em>You're always there, you're everywhere<em>  
><em>But right now I wish you were here<em>

He sang the backup echoes softly, a tear slipping down his cheek_._

_(Let go, let go, let go, let go)_

_No, I don't wanna let go_  
><em>I just wanna let you know<em>  
><em>That I never wanna let go<em>

He spontaneously wrapped his arms around the young girl and squeezed her tight. Ever since he'd met Brianna she'd been prone to hugging him, or Blaine, or Joey, or really just whoever was near. So it surprised him when she roughly pushed him back, making him stumble slightly. "Back off Kurt."

"Hey." He turned his head as Finn stood up, "You can't do stuff like that. He was just giving you a hug."

"What the hell do you care?" She growled in a very uncharacteristically low voice.

"That's my brother," Finn's voice was affronted.

Kurt saw all the muscles in Brianna's face tighten and finally a tear slipped down her face. He desperately wanted to hug her again, but he could only imagine how she might react. He held himself back.

"Yeah well my brother's dead, so screw you," she snapped, before whipping her head to look at Mr. Schuester. "Screw your stupid club. It's for losers-"

"Brianna," Kurt's frowned deeply, "You don't really think that. Blaine loved glee-"

"Yeah well he went and got himself killed, didn't he?" She swiped angrily at the one stray tear and levelled her familiar hazel eyes on him. "I'm done here."

He chased her as she ran out of the choir room and down the hall, panting when he finally caught her wrist and stopped her. "Bri I get that you're upset-"

"I lost my brother!" He blinked at the sudden scream and his hand fell from her wrist. "Don't tell me you get it Kurt, 'cause you don't. You're dumbass brother is right down the hall and mine's dead and we didn't even get to freaking bury him. So don't tell me that."

"I loved him too," he told her in a very soft voice. "I'd give anything to tell him one last time. I'd give anything for one last day with him; one last minute even. I'd give anything to just hold his hand in mine, just one more time." He was unashamed of the tears running down his face, "even just to see him. I love him so much Bri and I lost him and I don't know how I'm supposed to keep on living without him here with me. Blaine- he- we may not have been dating more than a few months, but he was 'it' for me Bri. He's still 'it' for me. He's all I ever wanted and now he's gone and I don't know what to do!"

He was surprised when her arms wrapped around him softly.

He sniffed loudly, "I know it's not the same. We loved him in different ways, but we both loved him."

"I know," her voice wasn't sharp this time, but back to the same softness she had before they'd gotten the news. "I know- I just- he was my brother. He was- we were so close. I- he wasn't just my brother, he was my best friend."

He rubbed her back gently, "I know."

"He thought you were the one too," she murmured in a very quiet voice. "He told me he thought you were his 'ever after'. He was such a dork." She paused for a very short moment before adding shakily, "I guess his ever after was just a lot shorter than any of us expected."

His breath caught in his throat and just nodded, before swallowing and taking her hand. "Come on Bri. Let's go back to glee club."

There was a sigh and a curt, "Fine, but don't expect me to be nice to them, or apologize, because I'm not going to."

He smiled weakly, "I think you and Santana will probably get along just fine, if that helps at all." Somehow he knew it wouldn't. The only thing that would help was the impossible, getting Blaine back.

* * *

><p><em>February 2012<em>

Blaine was surprised to be alive. Each morning that he woke up he expected that it would be the day Pierre would finally get sick of him and choke the life from his body. Except he'd been this man's captive for six months now, been taken across state lines (even if he didn't exactly know where they were since he'd blindfolded during the drive) and still Pierre hadn't murdered him.

Which wasn't to say that Pierre was nice to him; it was just the opposite. However Blaine learned. He learned that if he didn't fight back much, or even just gave in, that it didn't hurt so much and Pierre beat him up less.

The better he behaved the more privileges he earned. After two months he hadn't been bound when Pierre was around. After four months he'd been allowed to sleep with only his hands bound behind his back, rather than tied to the bed.

Now was even better. Now he was allowed to sleep without being tied up at all. The only time he was bound now was when Pierre left the apartment, even if there was a new bolt on the outside of his door that kept him from leaving his room at night.

It didn't matter. He had a plan. There was no bolt on his window and he was fairly sure he could pop out the screen quietly if he was careful enough. The window was tiny but he'd measured and he was pretty sure he could fit through it with only a little difficulty.

He'd been planning tirelessly for weeks during the hours he should have been sleeping; timing how long it took Pierre to fall asleep, making small noises in the middle of the night and seeing how much he could get away with before the man awoke. He was exhausted and sometimes the noisemaking ended in beatings, but it would all be worth it. Tonight was the night.

He stepped quietly into the bedroom of the small apartment that was allocated to him, listened to the bolt click and laid down on the bed. He lay silently; wide awake with adrenaline until he heard the tell-tale loud snores that meant Pierre had fallen asleep.

Looking at his alarm clock as the red digital numbers shone back at him, he noted the time. Usually it took Pierre about a half hour before he was in a deep enough sleep that Blaine could move around without waking him.

The half hour passed slowly as the numbers on the clock slowly changed, until finally it was time.

He swallowed nervously, clenching and unclenching his hands as he tried to get up the nerve to do what he was about to do. He knew without a doubt that if he got caught that he was liable to be killed. Pierre seemed almost fond of him sometimes, but he was under no false pretences. If he was caught there would be bloodshed.

Then again the idea was to not get caught.

He carefully walked over to the window and lifted the pane, wincing when there was a slight squeak. He listened for a terrifying moment until he heard another snore from Pierre in the other room.

He popped the screen inward and set it carefully against the wall before sticking his feet out the window. When the cold snow pressed against his feet he almost let out a shout of joy. Yes it was freezing against his bare feet, but he hadn't felt anything other than linoleum, carpet or hardwood under his feet in six long months.

He sequestered the urge to shout and instead crept away from the apartment.

The obvious first choice would be to go to one of the neighbouring apartments and ask for help, but fear shot that idea down quickly. The draft from his open window was sure to wake Pierre up soon and he wanted to be as far from him as possible when he did.

He didn't want to risk the sound of closing said window behind him.

So instead he ran through the snow until he reached the end of the street. He stared in shock for a long moment at all the lights that he was faced with. People everywhere were walking in every which direction and yellow cabs lined the roads in addition to random vehicles.

It was the city. He'd been in a city for several months and hadn't even known it.

He tried to stop one of the bundled walkers on the street, but the man just brushed past him without a word.

"Ex-excuse me," he grabbed someone by the wrist, "Please I nee-" he was pushed back roughly and growled at.

"Keep your hands to yourself asshole."

He bit back a sob and tried someone else who was bustling by, "Please," he pleaded with the stranger who's long, dark curly hair was clamped under a toque, "Please I need help."

The woman, who looked about thirty, he'd grabbed stopped and looked at him for a long moment. At first she looked outraged that he would just grab her out of the blue, but then her dark eyes flickered down to his bare feet. Then she seemed to notice that he was only a teenager. Her face softened and she asked, "Are you okay dear?"

Blaine shook his head, his feet and fingers starting to turn numb, "Please. I just want to go home." His ears burned with cold.

"Where's home?" She asked him in a soft voice as she carefully moved him away from the quick moving crowd.

"I- I-," he stuttered and looked around, completely overwhelmed. "I don't know where I am."

"Come on," she grabbed his arm and pulled him along. "You're going to freeze if we don't get you inside." She gently led him into a nearby apartment building. "We're going to get you warmed up and sent home, okay Sweetie?"

He shuddered and nodded his head as he followed her into a small, cozy apartment. The woman locked the door behind her and immediately pushed him down on the couch before grabbed the quilt folded on top of it and draping it across his shoulders.

He watched in silence as she put a kettle on the stove, before returning and sitting on an armchair across from the couch. "Now, why don't you tell me your name? Mine's Claire."

"B-Blaine," he shivered out, clutching the blanket closer around him.

"Well Blaine," she smiled at him softly. "Do you want to tell me what you're doing outside, alone on a frigid February night with no shoes and no coat? That's very irresponsible."

"I don't have any shoes anymore," he whispered in a soft voice. "I don't go outside. I'm not allowed."

She looked concerned at this, "Why not?"

"People will see me," he whispered with a shiver. He looked at her again, "Claire… I want to go home. Can I go home now?"

"Where's home Blaine?" She asked again, biting on her lip and he wondered if he was beginning to make her nervous.

"Where am I?" He asked tiredly. He felt so tired and overwhelmed. Freedom was overwhelming. The adrenaline was wearing off and he felt so confused and fuzzy. It was if the cold weather had robbed him of his senses.

She frowned, "Well you're on Melrose Avenue."

"But where?" He asked as his eyelids grew heavier. "I don't know where that is."

"It's right by Central Park," she explained, her brows furrowing deeply. "Blaine, you do know you're in Manhattan, right?"

His eyes bugged out and suddenly he was awake again, "Man-Manhattan; as in New York?"

"Blaine?"

Tears started sliding from his cheeks. "I'm in New York? I- I- Claire-"

The woman moved over to sit beside him and draped an arm over his shoulders to draw him close. "Blaine, did something happen to you?" He watched as her eyes flickered over his face, apparently just now fully taking in the bruising under his jaw and the cut on his cheek. "Did someone take you away from home?"

He nodded his head and sniffled, his eyelids starting to feel heavy despite the rollercoaster of emotions flooding his body. "I-I- I'm from Ohio."

"I'll call the police for you Sweetie," she told him suddenly and reached for the phone, but Blaine's head shot up.

"Please-" he begged in a whisper. "I'm so tired. I just want to sleep and they- the police won't let me sleep." He breath quickened desperately, tears forming in his eyes again, "They'll make me go to the hospital and- and I'm so sick and tired of him, of anyone, touching me. I just- please let me sleep first?"

"Sweetie," she started, her voice trembling slightly. He looked up her with shining eyes. She had to understand the implication of his statement, "do you need to go to the hospital?"

"It can wait, I promise," he snivelled a little and wiped his face on his sleeve. "I just- they're going to have to touch me and- I- please let me sleep? It would be so much easier if I could just sleep, please. I'm so tired."

"No one's going to touch you," she murmured in a soft voice, still holding him gently, "not like that, not anymore. It's going to be okay."

He laid his head on her shoulder, feeling both tired and for the first time in six months, comforted. His chest started to shake softly and he whispered out shakily as he choked back the sobs, "Thank you. Thank you."

"Shush," she murmured softly, hugging him tightly for a moment before standing up quietly. "You don't need to thank me Sweetie. I want to help. I'm going to call the police, but I promise you'll get to sleep soon."

"No, please Claire, wait." His body started trembling harder, the cold still not retreating quickly enough from his limbs. "Please, just- just an hour or two, please. Please?"

The kettle screamed and she rushed to it without answering him, before pouring the tea into two mugs. She added a little cold milk and sugar to both. She brought one over and pressed the steaming mug into his hands. "I'll tell you what Blaine. We'll make a deal. You drink some of this and I'll let you nap for a couple hours before I call the police for you, okay?"

He nodded and sipped the steaming tea, not caring as it scalded his tongue slightly. He'd suffered much worse pain than that before.

She brought over the other mug and set it on the coffee table before bustling over to a closet and pulling out a pillow and a couple more blankets. She set the pillow at one end of the couch and placed the folded blankets at the other.

Blaine looked up at her and asked in a plaintive voice, "Can I sleep now?"

She looked at the mug and noticed it was nearly half gone. "I'm surprised you didn't burn your tongue."

"I did, but I want to sleep," he murmured tiredly.

She slipped the mug from his hands and placed it on the coffee table next to her own. Then she very carefully motioned for him to lie down. "You can sleep now Blaine. I just wanted you to warm up a little first."

He settled his head on the pillow, feeling safer than he had in a long time. He felt Claire cover him with the quilts gently and was reminded instantly of how his mother used to tuck him in as a child. "Thank you," he whispered as he slowly let his mind slip into oblivion.

He jerked awake awhile later and sat up from the couch. He looked around in confusion for the source of the noise that had awakened him. "Claire?" He asked in a soft voice and wondered if she'd gone to bed.

"No," a deadly familiar voice growled at him and his head twisted around to see Pierre in the apartment, a knife in his hand. Said knife was pressed against Claire's neck and the woman's clothing looked distinctly more rumpled. "Blaine you're going to fold up those blankets and put them back where they belong."

Blaine froze and his hesitation caused a thin line of blood to appear against Claire's neck. It elicited a terrified whimper from the motherly woman.

He started folding the blankets frantically and put them back into the closet with the spare pillow in hopes his obedience would save Claire's life. All the time he was wishing he hadn't insisted so fervently on sleeping before calling the police. He could only guess that Claire was also wishing she hadn't given in to his pleas.

"Please Pierre," he whispered desperately. "Don't hurt her. She didn't do anything wrong. She was just trying to help me. I'll go back with you, I promise. I'll never try to run again- just- please don't hurt her."

"You're right about two things," Pierre snarled at him darkly. "You will go back with me and you'll never try to run again. I've been too lenient on you Blaine, out of fondness, but that's going to change." There was a pause. "Now say goodbye to your new friend."

"No Pierre, please-" his pleas were cut off as a spurt of blood gushed from Claire's neck the moment the knife slid tight against it. He rushed towards her as Pierre let her fall and dropped to his knees. "I'm sorry," he cried as he pressed his hands to the wound. Only a few hours ago she'd been a complete stranger, but she'd helped him; she'd cared for him and now because of him she was going to die. "Please Claire I'm sorry."

Her chocolate eyes locked on his hazel ones and she spluttered out softly, "No. Bl-Blaine."

"Claire, please, I'm so sorry…" He paused when her eyes fluttered, "Claire?"

"S-swe-sweet boy," she murmured as her hand came up weakly to cup his cheek, "Don-don't be sorry. I-I'm sorry- wanted to save you."

"Claire, please don't die," he begged even as he felt a hand grasp his hair, sending stinging pain into his scalp and pulling him back, up and away from her.

Her breathing shuddered and stopped as Pierre wrapped one hand over his mouth and the other jabbed a needle into his arm. He fell limp into blackness against his kidnapper.

He'd been right about the bloodshed.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Song is Wish You Were Here by Avril Lavigne. There'll be a new chapter on Tuesday February 21st! Sorry for the heart-breakage in this chapter, but with this story you should be used to it by now.

Also I want to let you know that after Chapter 10 I may need to go down to posting once a week. I'm hoping it doesn't come to that. I have my reading week this week so I'm going to try to get as much done as I can in order to stay at twice a week. Thanks so much for sticking with me guys/gals!

Oh yes, and as always, please review!


	9. Chapter 9: All a Ploy

**Summary**: Two years ago Kurt's boyfriend was kidnapped and supposedly murdered. Two years ago Blaine was ripped away and brainwashed into believing his captor loved him. Its two years later and they've been reunited, but it's not everything they imagined it would be.

**Warning**: Non-explicit mentions of non-con. There is some violence as well.

**A/N**: Every time I get one of your reviews I get ridiculously happy and smile like an idiot. Thanks so much for making me smile guys/gals, especially when everything's so stressful lately. I'm in the middle of a move to a bigger/better apartment and my current apartment has no hot water! My current landlord refused to fix it because I'm 'moving out anyway' so for the next week and a half I have to drive back and forth from my friends house to shower.

Also wanted to mention that someone wanted to know about just how Pierre found Blaine, but unfortunately it isn't discussed in the plot of the story since the points of view (despite being third person) never actually come from Pierre. It's actually kind of imperative that Blaine doesn't know how, because it's part of what convinces him that Pierre will always find him, no matter where he goes. I personally know how it he found him, so if you really want to know I'll explain it in the a/n at the end of this chapter.

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><p>Chapter 9 – All a Ploy<p>

September 2013

"Kurt?" Blaine whispered, sitting down in one of the kitchen chairs next to the other boy. "Were you lying- when Pierre asked you that question?"

Kurt looked at him strangely, his brows furrowed, before asking, "What question?"

"When he asked- you know-" he lowered his voice to a whisper, "if you were- um- a virgin?"

"I wasn't lying," Kurt told him with a small shake of his head. "I am." He shrugged his shoulders, "It's not a big deal really."

"Why though?" Blaine asked; his throat thick. "I thought- I thought you started dating some football player or something?"

Kurt's eyes stared at Blaine's for a long moment. "How did you know about that?"

Blaine shrugged. "I guess Pierre managed to keep tabs for a while. He told me how well everyone was doing without me."

"No one was doing well without you," Kurt snapped quietly, turning his head away from Blaine. Blaine's hand lay against Kurt's cheek and turned his head towards him to see the tears in his eyes. Kurt looked him in the eyes and continued softly, "Least of all me."

"Wh-what do you mean?" Blaine asked shakily. "I thought- I thought my parents were better off without me- that the Warblers replaced me- that you replaced me."

Kurt's arms moved as if to try to take him into his arms, but he was held back by the ropes holding him to the chair. "You're irreplaceable Blaine. We're all miserable without you. Your parents kept inviting me over for dinner so we could talk about you. Brianna barely spoke for weeks and when she went to McKinley- she started hiding behind this mask. She practically turned into Santana, hiding behind the cheerleading uniform, only not promiscuous. She's sharp and angry; not like the girl she used to be. Joey blames himself for not giving you a ride home. He dropped out of university to train to be a police officer. Your dad- your dad was- he drank a lot for a while. He blames himself for losing you too. He thinks- he thinks if he'd done what Pierre had said, that he would have gotten you back."

Blaine shook his head, "Pierre would have never let me go. He'll never let me go."

"That doesn't change how your dad feels," Kurt whispered, before adding in a quiet voice. "Your mom- I don't think she goes a minute without thinking of you. She goes in your room and keeps it spotless; waiting for you to come home. I guess she never really accepted you were dead, and now I know she was right. Wes stayed back a year. He didn't want to go to college anymore; at least not the first year. He said it didn't feel right that he got to go away while you- while we all thought you'd been murdered. He thinks of you of the little brother he never had- and lost. David- David made Nick lead soloist, but he quit. He didn't want to take your place. In the end they gave the spot to a new kid, but they didn't go very far." Kurt shook his head, "They had trouble because every time they picked a song they thought about what it would have sounded like with you singing it- at least that's what David told me. The focus was broken- the unity."

"They really all missed me that much?" Blaine asked, moving closer to Kurt and leaning his head into his neck.

"Yes," Kurt nodded softly. "Mercedes and Rachel really missed you too, and Finn."

"What about you?"

"Other than your family I think I missed you the most," Kurt whispered, tears slipping down his face easily. "I made myself date after a while, but it was so hard. I dated Dave- yeah Karofsky- for a few weeks, but I could barely let him touch me at all. It wasn't about that he used to bully me- it was that his hand wasn't your hand so I couldn't hold it. His lips weren't your lips so I couldn't kiss them. He broke up with me after three weeks. He said it was obvious that I wasn't over you. He understood; believe it or not." Kurt shook his head. "I dated a lot of guys Blaine. I even dated your replacement in the Warblers, but when I couldn't give myself to him, he dumped me too. I dated a lot, especially in college, but nothing ever came of it because none of them were you. Don't you understand how loved you are; how much everyone wants you to come home?"

"I'm ruined now, Kurt," Blaine whispered, sitting up straight again. "They won't love me when they find out what I've done."

"You're _not_ ruined, and they kind of know Blaine. At least, your family knows what- what Pierre's capable of-"

"Because of what he said at the drop," Blaine whispered, remembering the cruel words and his father's outraged, distraught reaction.

"Exactly," Kurt said in a soft voice. "He saw the bruises Blaine. He knew you didn't want it. He wasn't angry with you, he was heartbroken you had to go through that."

"That was then- when I still fought him," Blaine pinched his bottom lip between his teeth tightly. "How- how could he- how could any of them still love me after everything I've done? Kurt the things he's made me do- the things I've done-"

"You haven't done _anything!_" Kurt was suddenly yelling in a cracked, tearful voice, "You've only had things done to you, things forced on you; that's different Blaine! That's different."

Footsteps pounded down the hall and Blaine jumped out of his chair, putting himself between Kurt and a raging Pierre, "Out of my way, Blaine."

"Pierre, please-"

A fist smashed against his cheek before he was thrown sideways to tumble down to the floor. His head cracked against the wall and he pressed a hand to it as he tried to scramble to his feet. A foot kicked his side hard and he lay still, knowing better than to even think of moving. It would only make him angrier and more dangerous.

Pierre's hand was curled into Kurt's hair while another was beating him furiously about his head, "You-" Blaine watched in silent terror as another blow rained onto the boy he loved, "better-" another blow, "learn-" another, "to shut-" a withering blow hit that forced a strangle cry of pain from Kurt, "up!"

Pierre gripped the sides of the chair and threw it hard onto its side, sending Kurt roughly to the floor. A foot was sent hard into his stomach, letting out an 'oof' as all the air was forced from his lungs.

Kurt was struggling like a wildcat in the ropes binding him, tears drenching his cheeks and as another kick was aimed his way, Blaine threw himself in front. His fingers fumbled with the ropes binding Kurt's torso to the chair as the boot connected with his back.

He pulled the other boy, hands still bound behind him, into a corner and protectively took a spot in front of him while pleading, "Pierre, he's sorry. He's sorry. Please- he- he needs to be in good shape if you want his dad to pay the ransom. Please- it's my fault. You- you can hurt me instead_. Please_."

Pierre stopped and stared at the two boys, before saying in a dispassionate voice, "You better make sure he learns the rules Blaine; unless you want me to teach him the way I taught you."

Blaine shook his head vigorously. "No- no. I'll make sure he listens and learns the rules and- and is quiet, okay? I'll make sure. Please- I'll make sure he's good. I promise."

Pierre's eyes swept over them and Blaine's heart stopped for a moment, before he turned on his heel with a sharp, "I'm going out. Have dinner ready when I get back." There was a small pause, "He doesn't eat today- punishment for his misbehaviour."

Blaine nodded his head softly, "O-okay."

The door slammed behind Pierre on the way out and Blaine turned to look at Kurt. "Kurt? Are you okay?" He pressed a thumb gently over his cheek and grimaced when Kurt winced in pain. "It's okay," he murmured to him, at a loss of what to do. Kurt was in pain and the very thought was scrambling his brains as he tried to think of a solution. "I'll take care of you. I'll- I'll get you some ice!"

He scrambled over to the freezer and took out a bag of frozen peas, before wrapping it carefully in a dish towel. He kneeled down in front of Kurt and pressed it gently against the already swelling eye and cheek.

Kurt let out a little hiss of pain and Blaine swallowed thickly. Carefully he removed the ice pack and grabbed the other boy under the armpits, lifting him back onto his feet and supporting him gently when he swayed. "You'll be more comfortable on the couch I bet," he murmured both to himself and to Kurt.

He settled the still silent boy into a sitting position and grabbed the impromptu ice pack again, putting it against Kurt's face. He frowned after a few moments and laid the ice pack in Kurt's lap. He sighed. "Turn around, okay?"

Kurt turned his body, wincing as he did and looked sincerely confused when the ropes fell away from his wrists.

"I need you to hold that to your face," Blaine told him in a quiet voice. "You can't do that with your hands tied behind your back." He bit down on his lip, "but if Pierre comes back he might kill you if I leave you untied. I- I-"

Kurt pressed the pack against his face and finally spoke in a very soft voice, "You can tie my ankles together so I can't run. I mean I know technically I could reach down and untie myself, but if you do a good job you'd notice before I could finish, right? If he comes back too soon you can tell him that."

Blaine nodded, sighing a breath of relief at the suggestion and took the rope in his hands before tying a complicated knot around Kurt's ankles.

"I think I get it now," Kurt whispered in a small voice, biting down on his lip. "I still don't understand why you think you love him- or why you think he loves you- but I think I get why you stay." He shuddered and winced again at the pain even that very slight movement gave him, "You don't want to make him angry." He swallowed thickly, "I don't want to make him angry either. I don't know if I'd survive it."

Blaine nodded his head, "It's not easy." He chewed his lip again, before going to the fridge and pulling out some milk. Some ice came from the freezer along with some frozen strawberries. He grabbed a banana from the counter and peeled it.

"What are you doing?" Kurt asked quietly, still pressing the pea ice pack to his bruising face.

"Making you a smoothie," Blaine told him with a tight smile.

"But-"

"He said you couldn't eat. You won't be. You'll be drinking it," Blaine smiled again, although this time more weakly, before adding, "It's going to be bad enough not having dinner, but you definitely need to have something." He sliced the banana and put it into the blender with the other fruit, milk and ice.

When he was done he poured it into a cup and brought it over. "Just drink it Kurt. He can't get mad at you for having a drink, right? He can only get mad at me for making it."

"I don't want to get you hurt-" Kurt started but Blaine just took the cup and pressed it to his lips.

"Please Kurt," Blaine murmured. "Whatever he does, I can handle it. I'm used to it. I just- I have to do what I can for you. This is my fault and- I- I need to fix it somehow."

Kurt looked up at him and shook his head, "It's not your fault Blaine. We're in an impossible situation and you're dealing with it the best you can."

"Yeah well it's not good enough, is it?" Blaine asked, still holding out the smoothie with one hand as the other stroked lightly over Kurt's forming bruise. "Please just drink it?"

Kurt let out a small sigh, took the cup in one hand and sipped at it.

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><p><em>February 2012<em>

Blaine's eyes fluttered open weakly as the blurry image of his room came shrouded into his vision. He blinked a few more times, letting the room clear and he bit back a whimper when he saw Pierre crouched by the window, inspecting it.

He tried to sit up but nylon rope cut into his wrists, holding him to the bed. He turned his head first to one side then the other and swallowed thickly, noting that his hands were no longer covered in blood. Even when he'd first come to be with Pierre he'd never been bound like this. Before he'd only ever had his wrists tied together around one of the wooden bars on the headboard. It had never been the most comfortable sleeping position, but he'd managed.

Now his arms were stretched out on either side of him, each wrist bound to a different bedpost. At the foot of the bed his ankles were bound similarly, further restricting his movements so that all he could so was shift slightly and move his head.

He closed his eyes, hoping Pierre hadn't noticed the very slight movements he'd been making and tried to feign unconsciousness. He was never beaten while unconscious, or so he assumed. At the very least he'd never woken up with injuries that hadn't been afflicted while he was still awake.

He heard the movements as Pierre stood up and walked out of the bedroom. A small sigh of relief blew past his lips despite himself. He caught himself as the door opened again and lay as still as possible, all the while listening carefully as he heard something being carried into the room.

There was a strange metallic clang and the sound of an electric drill and he braved opening his eyes a mere millimeter to peer at Pierre through his eyelashes.

He was attaching a set of metal bars to the window.

Blaine lay silently atop the bed, trying to keep tears from collecting in the corners of his eyes. That would be a dead giveaway that he was conscious, but he almost couldn't help himself because suddenly Claire's terrified face was in his mind as blood gurgled at her throat and in her mouth.

A small broken sob escaped his mouth. She had died because of him.

Pierre's head turned in his direction for a moment, and Blaine could see him scowling angrily through the slits of his eyes. He slipped them back down until they were completely shut, not wanting to look at the rage in the man's face.

The sound of the power tool continued for another few minutes until it stopped and he heard it being set on the ground. His chest and stomach clenched tightly as he heard the footsteps that signalled Pierre's approach.

There was a depression on the bed and then a weight pressed into his chest making it difficult to breathe. A hand grasped his chin and another slapped him hard across the face, "Open your eyes Blaine. I know you're faking it."

Obediently he blinked his eyes open and stared up at the man sitting on his chest. He tried to swallow the thick lump in his throat, but it wouldn't go down.

"Now see Blaine," Pierre spoke in a deceptively calm voice that he knew way too well. It was the voice of suppressed anger that always came before the worst of his beatings. "I thought you'd learned the meaning of loyalty, of obedience and fealty. I thought you learned that you were mine, but obviously the lesson didn't stick, isn't that right?"

Blaine knew the proper response. If he agreed it wouldn't be as bad as it would be if he said he'd done nothing wrong. "No, the lesson didn't stick. I'm sorry."

"That means I have to teach you again, doesn't it?" Pierre asked with his voice dark and pointed.

"Yes," Blaine whispered back, tears collecting in his eyes again.

"What do you think will make the lesson stick Blaine? How should I teach you?" Pierre asked in the same terrifying voice.

Blaine tried to suck in a breath but his lungs wouldn't expand properly due to the weight pressing down on them. Pierre's favourite punishment was sex, but he couldn't make himself ask for it. Instead he said in a pained whisper, "I deserve to be beaten."

"You do," Pierre agreed with a nod, and he almost let out a sigh of relief. Being beaten, while not ideal, was definitely the lesser of two evils. His relief was very short lived as Pierre started leaning down and spoke quietly, "but that doesn't seem to be imprinting the lesson. I think a more serious punishment is in order. We may need to start over-" there was a pause that made Blaine's stomach feel like it was sinking deep in his body. "You're not going to be leaving this room for a long time. You're not going to be leaving this bed, as a matter of fact."

"But- but what if I have to use the bathroom?" Blaine asked in a whisper, the tears that had collected in his eyes slid down the sides of his face.

Pierre let out a laugh that chilled his bones, "A once a day exception, I suppose." He leaned down again and grasped Blaine's face tightly. "And during this time I'll just have to instil upon you just why you can't leave."

There was a pause and Blaine tried to speak, hoping it might make his punishment slightly more lenient, "Be-because I belong to you?"

Pierre's mouth upturned in a small grin, "That's one, important reason, but Blaine there are more. More that I didn't tell you because I care about you. Do you think I really like doing this?"

'_Yes!_' His brain screamed, but he carefully spoke the opposite, "No?"

Pierre chuckled and patted his cheek lightly.

Blaine winced at the hand, waiting for the moment when his punishment would come. It was almost worse, knowing it was coming, but not when. This game of fake gentleness was making his muscles scream as the tension built up in them increased due to nervousness and terrified anticipation.

"Oh Blainey," Pierre shook his head, his voice suddenly soft. "You can't leave because you have nowhere to go. I'm the only one who cares now. Everyone else thinks you're dead. Your parents have moved on, finally unhindered by their faggot son; after all they still have their perfect, straight son and perfect little cheerleader daughter. Your brother doesn't have to worry about taking care of your worthless self. Your sister finally can stop fake caring. I'm sure that stupid singing group has replaced you by now. You may think you're talented, but I've heard you in the shower, you're just so-so. You're little faggot boyfriend's dating some burly football player." There was a soft pause. "They're all over you Blainey. You're dead to them; dead. I'm the only one who cares about you now."

Blaine swallowed his voice thick as he whispered, "H-how do you know all this about me?"

The hand patted his cheek again, this time a little harder so it was almost like a slap, "I've been keeping tabs. I may or may not still have _friends_ in Lima. Really Blaine, do you really think Cal grabbed you by accident? I hired him Blaine- to kidnap you." Laughter grew in Pierre's throat. "Of course he thought it was all for ransom. Then again he actually thought I was going to pay him too- and let him live."

"But- but," Blaine whispered in a soft voice, "He said- he said he was running from the police."

The laugh grew into a guffaw, "A ruse to make you think he'd let you go- so you'd be easier to manage and less likely to fight back." The hand stroked his cheek, "It was all a ploy. I was watching you for weeks. Since the first time I saw you, only days after my release, I knew I had to have you and no one was going to stop me, not even the idiot I hired. You're parents being rich was just icing on the cake, even if it didn't work out quite the way I had hoped."

The hand that had stroked his cheek dug back into his hair, pulling his head back painfully, "Of course they obviously didn't really ever love you, did they? If they had there would never have been a police presence, no matter how miniscule. If they'd really loved you they would have just handed over the money like good parents. I guess they didn't though, did they? Your dad was a little too keen to hold onto his money to really love you. If any of them ever did love you, they won't now."

A hand wrapped around his throat tightly; giving a punishing squeeze.

Tears were streaming down his face now as his eyes started to bulge slightly from lack of oxygen.

"No one will. You're ruined now," Pierre told him in a harsh whisper, removing his hand so he could gasp for breath. "Forget them Blaine. I'm the only one who gives a damn."

A sob broke from his throat and a backhand slammed against the side of his head. The beating had finally begun, but between each withering blow came a new verbal affirmation (pathetic, useless, unloved, unwanted) that he was a ruined boy that no one would ever love; no one but Pierre.

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><p><strong>February 2012<strong>

It was strange to kiss a boy that wasn't Blaine. It was even stranger when the boy he was kissing was none other than David Karofsky; the boy that had stolen his first kiss that counted.

His lips were rough, and the wrong shape and just a little too insistent for his taste. They weren't the soft, sweet, cinnamon flavoured lips he was used to kissing. They weren't Blaine's.

Kurt pulled back abruptly, breaking off the kiss and let out a small sigh, "I'm sorry Dave."

Dave's larger hand reached over and patted his, "I get it, Fancy," what had once been offensive had turned into an affectionate nickname. "It's tough. Maybe you're doing this a little more quickly than you should. I mean- it's only been six months since he's been gone. It might be too soon."

"Except he's gone David," Kurt shook his head, slipping his slightly smaller hand into David's. "It's about time I forced myself to move on."

David's hand left his and he was almost relieved that the other boy had given him an easy out. Holding his hand was almost as hard as kissing him, sometimes harder. There were no guitar callouses on Dave's fingers. "You can't force it." Dave shook his head, "Look Kurt. I really care about you. I do, but I can't do this, either."

"What?"

"Compete with a dead boy," he murmured. David shook his head and took a breath. "I like you so much Kurt, but I want you to be happy and I don't know how to make you happy. I'll admit there were times when I used to wish he would just disappear, but now that he has- and seeing you so miserable- I'd do anything to bring the little hobbit back here to see you happy again." He smiled weakly, "I know before I used to like seeing you miserable, but that's because I was so miserable too- now it just hurts seeing you like this."

"I wish I could love you the way you want me too," Kurt murmured with a shake of his head. He bit down on his lip and admitted, "I don't think I can though- not when I keep holding out hope that he'll somehow miraculously come back to me."

"I hate to say it, but he's not going to Kurt," David told him, wrapping his arms around the smaller boy in a gentle hug.

"It just doesn't feel like he's gone," Kurt whispered, his voice small. "I still feel him- I still feel like he's out there somewhere waiting for me to save him. It just hurts Dave."

"I know," he squeezed a little tighter. "Whenever it does, you know you can come to me okay? Despite this whole break up thing, we can still be friends. I still want to be your friend Kurt, but I just can't do this. It hurts too much."

Kurt nodded his head, "I understand Dave. You deserve someone who can give themselves to you wholly not someone who's still clinging onto the past and wishing it was the present."

"That's funny," Dave told him, laughing weakly, "All I ever wanted was you and now that I've got you- I don't know. It's not what I imagined."

"A lot of the time that's how a first crush is," Kurt shrugged his shoulders as his heart tightened.

"Or a first love," David murmured, looking pained at the information he'd so freely given to the boy he was breaking up with.

"Yeah," Kurt nodded his head, thinking of his own first love. "I never imagined it would end like this."

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><p><strong>AN**: So for those of you who wanted to know how Pierre found Blaine (if it doesn't matter to you then you can skip this and go straight to reviewing -wink-) I had it in my head that Pierre suspected all along that Blaine was planning to escape. This is why he already had the bars for the window in this chapter. He followed him and when he saw Claire he formed a plan in his head to terrify Blaine into never trying to escape again. So he followed them to the apartment, listened at the door to make sure that he could get into the apartment before anyone actually called the police and broke in just as Claire was picking up the phone to call while Blaine was asleep.

Of course Blaine being unaware of Pierre's actions didn't see any of this and therefore it wasn't fleshed out within the narrative. Anyway so there you go.

Please drop me a review!


	10. Chapter 10: Too High a Cost

**Summary**: Two years ago Kurt's boyfriend was kidnapped and supposedly murdered. Two years ago Blaine was ripped away and brainwashed into believing his captor loved him. It's two years later and they've been reunited, but it's not everything they imagined it would be.

**Warning**: Non-explicit mentions of non-con. Some violence as well.

**A/N**: Sorry it's so late in the day, but I had to work and move stuff! At least it's still Friday… well at least in my time zone it is! Also, I did edit this, but not as thoroughly as I usually do. I'm going to go back and edit again tomorrow sometime, but I desperately wanted to get something up for you on time so I apologize if there are any errors. Thanks guys/gals!

This chapter is a little shorter than the others, but don't worry chapter 11 is almost 5000 words and I haven't even edited yet (they always get longer in editing).

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><p>Chapter 10: Too High a Cost<p>

September 2013

"Here," Blaine peeled Kurt's hand and the ice pack in it away from his face, "Let me take a look at that." He peered at the bruises forming on Kurt's face and winced, "Well the swelling's gone down a bit at least." His eyes peered over at the clock on the wall.

"What is it?" Kurt asked softly, placing the ice pack back onto his face.

"I don't know when Pierre's coming back," Blaine told him in a quiet voice, putting a hand on Kurt's arm. "I hate to think what he would do if he came back and you weren't where he left you."

Kurt looked down at his feet, which was a little bit difficult considering he was sure one of his eyes had swollen almost shut. "It's not like I can go anywhere."

"I don't want to risk it," Blaine shook his head. He gently pulled Kurt to his feet, supporting him when he wobbled due to his bound ankles. He wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist, lifting him slightly. Kurt's arms automatically wrapped around his neck; holding onto him as he carried him back over to the kitchen.

He settled him gently back into the chair.

"Well that was fun," Kurt muttered under his breath, bringing his hands behind his back and letting Blaine bind them. He didn't think he could fight if he tried. His head was still buzzing with pain and he knew even if he got away that Blaine would never follow him.

A rope wrapped around his torso too; holding him to the back of the chair.

"Sorry, it's not like I like it," Blaine told him in a soft voice. He moved over to pick up the now thawed bag of peas and returned it to the freezer. He sat down in one of the wooden chairs and looked at Kurt. "You understand that if I had a choice I would let you go. If I had any choice in the matter I would go with you."

"You have a choice," Kurt said with a small shake of his head. "That man isn't even here right now."

"He could come back at any second," Blaine insisted in a hoarse voice. "I know you don't get it Kurt, but I've tried to run before. It doesn't end well. The first time I tried to run he-" he shook his head. "He was really angry Kurt. He really hurt me- and the second time. The second time I got someone killed. She- she was just trying to help me. I know you're just trying to help Kurt, but that just gets people killed. I can't let anyone else die because of me. I can't watch anyone else die; especially not you. I wouldn't- I wouldn't survive it."

"Okay," Kurt murmured in a soft voice. He turned his head and looked at Blaine, his eyes softening, "Blaine… just how many people has he made you watch him murder?"

Blaine lowered his eyes, "Two." He swallowed thickly and explained, "He killed Cal because he- Cal I mean- didn't want to hurt me. Cal just wanted get the money and let me go. Pierre didn't want to pay him and didn't want him messing things up; like him keeping me. So he shot him. I was taped to a chair so I couldn't really do anything."

Kurt frowned, and opened his mouth softly, "Blaine, I'm sorry."

"That wasn't the worst," Blaine told him with a small shrug, still not looking at Kurt. "I ran away once. I mean I really got away. This woman, Claire, found me and took me back to her place. I was so dazed and confused. It was so cold out and I'm pretty sure I was in shock. She wanted to call the police, but I wanted to sleep first. I was stupid and it got her killed. When I woke up- Pierre was there and he had a knife to her neck. I don't even know how he found me."

"Blaine," Kurt whispered, wishing he could put a gentle hand on the other boy.

"She was nice to me and I begged him to let her live, but he didn't. He just- he slit her throat and I couldn't do anything. I couldn't save her Kurt. I- then he drugged me. When I woke up I was tied to the bed." He chewed on his lip, "I can't let you die Kurt. I can't watch you die. It would kill me. I have to listen to him; for both of us. It's the only way. It's how I survive."

Tears pricked at his eyes and he nodded his head. "Okay Blaine. Okay. I won't try to go anywhere. I won't risk our lives. I promise."

"You'll listen to him?" Blaine asked in a desperate voice. "Please tell me you'll listen to him. If you do he'll- he'll be less likely to hurt you." He lowered his voice, "I really don't want him to be tempted Kurt. I'm going to try to keep him satisfied, but you have to be as quiet as possible. Just try not to draw any attention to yourself, okay?"

Kurt's throat and stomach both tightened and the tears brimmed over slightly, "What do you mean 'keep him satisfied'?"

"Just try not to think about it," Blaine told him in a small voice. He shook his head and looked over at the clock again. "It's almost supper time. I should get started."

"Blaine, please don't do whatever you're thinking of doing, okay? I'll be fine. I'll just be quiet and unassuming and I won't make him mad. You don't have to put yourself in a situation where he'll rape you more often."

"Kurt, stop," Blaine told him in a hoarse tone. "Stop talking."

"Blaine, please don't," Kurt whispered in a pleading tone.

"I asked you to stop talking," Blaine repeated in as firm as tone as he could muster. He moved to the fridge and started pulling out a frozen lasagne, before setting the oven.

Kurt stared over at him, tears slipping down his bruised face even through his swollen eye. He didn't speak as per Blaine's wishes and instead sniffed, trying to keep back his tears.

Blaine stopped what he was doing at the sounds of Kurt's quiet crying. He set the items down on the counter and stepped in front of Kurt and dropped to his knees. "Hey," he said quietly, peering up into Kurt's eyes, "Kurt I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

Kurt didn't talk to him instead he just looked at him, tears running down his face.

"Kurt talk to me," Blaine reached up his hands and gently let his fingers wipe away the tears. He brought them back quickly when Kurt flinched at the contact.

"I thought you wanted me to stop talking," Kurt whispered with a shake of his head.

"I just don't like talking about that aspect of my relationship with Pierre," Blaine explained in a soft voice. "It's a sensitive topic." He paused and shook his head, before asking, "Did I hurt you?"

"No, my whole face just hurts," Kurt murmured, his jaw trembling. "I'm pretty sure everything hurts."

"I'll do whatever it takes so he doesn't hurt you again," Blaine promised him fervently. He gently placed a kiss on Kurt's lips.

Kurt didn't comment, but he didn't want Blaine to keep his promise. He knew what it would cost the other boy and it was breaking his heart.

* * *

><p><strong>June 2012<strong>

Kurt settled the red graduation cap on his head and gave his parents a grimacing smile. It was ruining his hair, and Blaine wasn't there to see it.

"Well go on, get closer to Finn! We need to get some pictures of the two of you," Carole waved her hand in a motion to have Kurt to slide in closer to his step-brother.

Kurt shuffled next to his brother and faked his brightest smile as Carole snapped off a few pictures. As soon as the flashes stopped the smile fell and his shoulders slumped.

Finn swung an arm over his slumped shoulders, "Dude, what's wrong? You're all sad and stuff."

Kurt shrugged his shoulders and bit down on his lip as tears built up in his eyes and threatened to brim over, "Blaine should be here."

Finn's arm squeezed around him gently, "I'm sorry man. I guess it must be tough; you know, since before everything happened you expected him to be here for this stuff."

Kurt nodded and the two boys stepped away from their parents. Burt and Carole left them be, knowing that at this moment Kurt needed a brother more than anything else. Finn had slowly turned into his rock over the past ten months.

Kurt licked his lips and spoke softly to his brother, "I know he wouldn't have been graduating with us or anything, and he might have chosen to stay at Dalton despite what he told Bri, but he would have been here. He probably would have brought me flowers or something ridiculously romantic like that. I just- I miss him. I miss him more than I ever thought I could." The tears brimmed over and slipped down his cheeks, "This is supposed to be a happy day, but without him it's just not right."

"I know," Finn wrapped both his arms around his brother and held him tightly. "It's not fair man. It's not fair what happened, to either of you. Blaine didn't deserve that- and you didn't deserve to lose him. I'm sorry dude. I wish he could be here for you too."

"I just- I love him so much and him not being here- it is torture Finn. It is pure torture," Kurt whispered desperately. He stopped and looked at his brother before he added softly, "It's like I can't get over him because I still think he's going to come home."

"Kurt," Finn shook his head sadly, "He's not going to come home. You said yourself that his dad heard it happen. Even if whoever took him didn't do it at that moment; he wouldn't have kept him long without the money. I'm sorry man, I'm really sorry, but he's gone."

"Then why do I still feel him?" Kurt whispered pathetically, his hand clutching at his graduation robes over his heart. "Why do I still feel him right here Finn?"

"I don't know man," Finn sighed, squeezing his arms around Kurt again tightly and rubbing gentle, small circles into his brother's back. "I guess- I guess even though Blaine died- that love like the kind you two shared, never does. Love doesn't die Kurt, so I guess you keep on loving him even though he's gone or something."

"I just wish he was here," Kurt murmured into his brother's chest. He pulled away and sniffled softly, "I wish he could be here to see this; to be with me."

"Maybe he is," Finn told him in a careful, somewhat hesitant voice. "Look dude. I know you don't believe in God or whatever, but what if you're wrong and Blaine can see this? Would he want to see you so sad on a day like today?"

"Look Finn-" Kurt snapped, the change in subject irritating him. Blaine's death had only cemented his belief that God was just a fallacy, "-even if there is a God, which I don't believe there is; do you really think he would have let Blaine in? He was gay Finn, just like me. I'm sorry but I can't believe in a God who could make someone gay and then hate them for it. It seems kind of stupid to me."

"I don't think He's like that," Finn shrugged his shoulders. "I figure maybe it's us who got it wrong. Like, God does love gay people too, but we like messed up and just made it out like He'd hate them because it made us uncomfortable or something."

Kurt softened at his brother's words. It was a nice sentiment, that somewhere out there Blaine was happy, even if he could never truly belief it. "Well, even if I don't believe it myself; I still kind of wish it were true. It would be nice at least." He almost shook his head, "I wish I could believe in that stuff Finn. I wish I could believe that Blaine's up there somewhere with my mom and happy, but I don't- and I can't."

Finn wrapped his arms around him again, "You don't have to Kurt, but that doesn't change that Blaine wouldn't want to see you sad. He loved you so much. He'd want you to be happy, you know?"

Kurt gave a small nod and faked a smile. "You're probably right."

* * *

><p><em>June 2012<em>

The sound of his bedroom door slamming open broke Blaine from his sleep and he scrambled out of bed immediately as Pierre growled at him, "Get up. Let's go."

He frowned in confusion, before a little bit of hope lit up his face. Pierre had mentioned pretty recently that his behaviour had improved enough that he might be allowed an escorted trip outside. He missed the heat of the sun, or the feeling of a gentle breeze. Sure there were windows, but it just wasn't the same. "Go where?"

He rarely argued anymore, rarely fought back and had taken over all the in-house chores; doing his best to keep the man content and satisfied. Pierre was still rough with him, still hit him, but his last severe beating had been nearly three weeks before.

It was definitely a significant improvement.

"The living room, dumbass," Pierre snapped at him and his shoulders slumped slightly.

"Oh," he murmured softly, padding after the man quietly. In the middle of the apartment's living room was a mannequin dressed in mismatching clothes and adorned with several small bells. His brows furrowed in confusion and he dared to ask in a small voice, "What's going on?"

"You're going to start training," Pierre let out a low chuckle. "I figure you're too much of a wimp to actually rob somebody so we're going to work our way up. Understand?"

"I- not really," he mumbled, bowing his head.

Pierre rolled his eyes irritably. "You're going to be a pickpocket. Not yet, obviously. I still need to make sure I can trust you after that stunt in February," Pierre's voice darkened dangerously at the mention of his escape attempt. "Plus an idiot like you is going to need a lot of practice before I can let you out there without getting caught."

Blaine chewed his lower lip softly, but didn't speak. He was used to hearing those casual insults, but they still ate away at the very infrastructure of his fragile self-esteem like termites each time they were thrown at him. He could only imagine eventually the rotting supports would eventually be eaten away enough that he'd collapse -implode- into a wreck to be remodelled to Pierre's will.

Sometimes he wondered if it hadn't happened already.

"Well go ahead, try to lift something," Pierre snapped at his silence.

He blinked and stepped forward letting his fingers reach for the old leather wallet in the dummy's back pocket. Almost immediately he heard the small sound of a bell, before Pierre grabbed him and sent a fist hard into his stomach.

He gasped, falling to his knees in front of the dummy as he tried to take in the breath that had been forced out of him. His arms wrapped around his stomach tightly and he looked up at Pierre, his eyes watery and confused.

"I figure," Pierre began to explain with a spiteful laugh, "you'll learn faster if you have a very substantial reason not to fail. Every time I hear a bell, expect punishment for it." There was a pause and Blaine swallowed thickly, "Get up and try again."

He forced himself to his feet silently. He reached out for the wallet again, trying to keep his fingers as still as possible even as they shook with fear. He hesitated, his jaw trembling and his eyes flickering between where Pierre was watching intently and the mannequin he was supposed to be robbing.

"Do it!" Pierre snarled at him and he flinched violently.

He reached forward and touched the wallet, letting out a breath of relief when he didn't hear the bell ring. He tugged lightly, trying to keep his movements smooth before hearing a light tinkling that made him cringe, which only made the bell ring again and a little more loudly.

A hand grabbed his shirt and threw him down on the floor next to the mannequin and he curled up instinctively to protect his stomach, even as two sharp kicks pounded against his back and made him bite back yelps of pain.

"Up! Try again," Pierre was yelling at him and he forced himself onto his hands and knees, before gingerly getting back up on his feet.

He sniffed slightly, trying to suck back the wetness in his eyes and wiped his face warily, before obediently making another attempt at removing the wallet.

The bell rang again and as pain exploded through his side he wondered if Pierre's training techniques would be what eventually killed him.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Drop me a review please! I love 'em.


	11. Chapter 11: How High

**Summary**: Two years ago Kurt's boyfriend was kidnapped and supposedly murdered. Two years ago Blaine was ripped away and brainwashed into believing his captor loved him. Its two years later and they've been reunited, but it's not everything they imagined it would be.

**Warning**: Non-explicit mentions of non-con. Some violence as well.

**A/N**: Woo, all moved into the new place! Of course now I don't have any internet so this is courtesy of my university's internet connection/ the wifi hotspot I can connect to on my phone! Next plan of action is to either talk to my neighbours about splitting the internet bill or getting internet of my own. In light of this (and how hard it was to upload this into my ff account), I'm going to postpone the editing yet again until tomorrow during my class break. Sorry if there are any mistakes.

Anywhoozle, I hope you enjoy the chapter.

* * *

><p>Chapter 11: How High<p>

September 2013

Blaine jumped when he heard the door open and quickly brought two plates over to the kitchen table, setting one down on one end, and taking a seat at the other and placing his own plate in front of him.

Pierre just looked at him for a short moment, "Lasagne?"

"You didn't say what you wanted," Blaine murmured in answer, not reaching for his fork but instead looking down at his lap. "I'm sorry."

Pierre sat down at the table without another word and ate a bite of the lasagne. "Did you make this?"

Blaine shook his head, his shoulders trembling slightly, "It's the one we bought from the freezer section at the grocery store. I just popped it in the oven."

"Probably why it tastes good," Pierre scoffed, laughing at his own joke. His eyes leered over at Kurt and he chuckled again as he asked, "You hungry, boy?"

Kurt shook his head softly, despite that his stomach was grumbling loudly and the very smell of the lasagne was making his stomach burn with hunger.

Pierre laughed at him again, taking another bite of his dinner. He looked over at Blaine and raised an eyebrow, "Why aren't you eating Blaine?"

"It doesn't seem fair," Blaine whispered in a soft voice, "that I get to eat and Kurt doesn't. You hurt him so badly- it feels like he already got punished enough."

Pierre's eyes narrowed slightly. "Are you saying that I'm being unreasonable?"

Blaine's eyes widened and he shook his head vigorously, "No, not at all. That's not what I meant. I just- I just meant that- um- I feel bad for eating in front of him. You know, his face is all bruised and it probably really hurts and I just feel bad for him, that's all." He trembled and bit his lip, waiting for the man's reaction to his desperate words.

Pierre seemed to ponder his reply for a long moment, before reaching forward and taking the full plate of lasagne and pulling it towards him, "Fine then. _Kurt_ can have supper and you'll skip it instead. Sound fair?"

Blaine nodded his head softly. "Okay." He reached forward to untie Kurt's hands so he could eat but Pierre levelled him with a heavy glare. He let his hands fall away, the knots still fully intact.

Pierre pushed the plate in front of Kurt, before returning to his meal.

Blaine reached for the fork, but grabbed his hand away when Pierre jabbed at his hand with his own fork. He paused, swallowing thickly, "How's he supposed to eat?"

"That's his problem, not mine," Pierre let out a shrug, finishing off his own plate. He gave Blaine a pointed look and the nineteen year old scrambled to grab the dirty dishes and bring them to the sink. The man seemed to be in one of his more unpredictable moods. Blaine knew that at times like this the best option was always to do whatever Pierre wanted without even a moment's hesitation.

Kurt however didn't understand Pierre's moods; he didn't have the same insight Blaine had come to understand over years of captivity.

Pierre reached forward and picked up the remaining fork and scooped up some of the lasagne, before holding it in front of Kurt's lips. "I suppose I could feed him. You'd just love that, wouldn't you Kurt?"

Kurt pressed his lips shut, refusing to be fed like a child by a cruel and sadistic psychopath.

"Open up Kurtie," Pierre growled in an almost sing-song voice. "Aren't you hungry?"

"Kurt, eat," Blaine whispered from the sink where he was washing the dishes. His jaw trembled at the thought of what Pierre might do if Kurt dared to disobey him.

Kurt's eyes flickered to Blaine, but his lips remained shut.

"Tsk, tsk," there was a hunt of amusement lacing Pierre's voice and Blaine flinched. "You're not very obedient, are you Kurtie? Well, that's going to be a problem." The fork was laid down. "You seem to forget that I hold your life in my hands. Not only that but I hold Blaine's life in my hands." There was a pause and Pierre looked over to Blaine. "Come here and bring a knife."

Blaine clenched his teeth tightly in a grimace and obeyed, walking over to where Pierre sat and standing nervously in front of him, clutching the knife in his hand.

"I'm sorry," Kurt whispered, suddenly finding his voice despite how meek it sounded. "I'll eat. I'll do whatever you want. Don't hurt him, please."

"Shut up," Pierre snapped, before turning his attention on Blaine again. "Give me that and get on your knees."

Blaine knelt down quickly after handing over the knife, looking up at the seated man with fear clearly reflected in his eyes.

"Blaine, tell Kurt what happens when someone is disobedient in my apartment," Pierre ordered in a soft voice, noticing how both of them were trembling.

"They get punished," Blaine spoke up quietly. He licked his lips nervously, waiting for whatever was to happen next.

"Exactly," Pierre smiled lightly. His hand stroked through Blaine's long curls carelessly, before gripping them and pulling the boy's head back. He pressed the knife taut against his throat, smiling when Blaine closed his watery eyes and whimpered. "Would it be overdoing it if I punished you by cutting Blaine's throat?"

Kurt nodded desperately. Tears were slipping down Blaine's face and he could clearly imagine the terror he had caused by his disobedience. It had to be similar to the kind that was surging through his veins at the thought of losing Blaine _again_, "Please. He didn't do anything wrong. I messed up. I'm sorry. I'll do what you want I promise."

The knife eased away from Blaine's throat and Pierre smiled, setting the weapon on the table. He let his hand stroke through the curls again and he looked over at Kurt, "Who's in charge here Kurt?"

"You are," Kurt told him immediately, his voice hoarse and soft. "If you say jump, I say how high, right?"

"I'm glad we're on the same page," Pierre's hands withdrew from Blaine's hair, pushing him away. "Go back to doing the dishes Blaine."

Blaine stood shakily, wiping his sleeve against his face as he walked back over to the kitchen. He could still feel the edge of the serrated blade against his skin. For a terrifying moment he'd thought he'd be joining Claire over something as small as a refusal to eat.

He watched silently as Pierre lifted the fork again and held it to Kurt's lips. Kurt opened his mouth and took the food without so much as a complaint, even though he could tell it was killing him.

"Just remember," Pierre whispered to Kurt in a dangerous voice. "Both of you are alive because I allow you to live. Don't think that I won't kill him, because I can and if I have the mind to, I will. There are plenty more like him out there. Hell- I could even keep you instead. Wouldn't that be nice?"

Kurt stared at him wide eyed and the fork came back with another morsel of food. He obediently took it into his mouth and chewed.

"However," Pierre continued with his voice still quiet. "If you smarten up there's a good chance I'll let you go home and take Blaine somewhere else to live. That's the best case scenario for you Kurt- so you best try to make it happen, is that clear?"

Kurt swallowed with a little difficulty and murmured, "Crystal, Sir."

"Sir," a smile grew over Pierre's face, "I like that." He continued to feed him until the meal was finished and sat back as Blaine came over again to grab the dishes. His nose wrinkled and he gave Kurt a disgusted look, "You need a shower."

Kurt looked hopeful, "Could I? Could I please shower," he paused for a moment before adding tentatively, "Sir?"

Pierre didn't answer him instead he untied the ropes holding his ankles and his waist, yanking him into a standing position. "Considering you smell like shit and B.O. I think that's something we can arrange." He looked over a Blaine, snapping, "Get him some of your clothes. They'll do."

Blaine nodded, setting the plate he'd been rinsing into the drying rack and walking quickly into his room.

Pierre pushed Kurt down the hallway towards the bathroom. He gave the boy a shove inside, before stepping in behind him. He wrinkled his nose, before untying his wrists and looking the slender, pale boy over.

His hair was greasy and there was a slick sheen of sweat over his body that had probably been due to pure fear. One side of Pierre's mouth curved upward and he asked him, much like he'd asked Blaine two years earlier, "Well what are you waiting for?"

Kurt's heart stalled and he stared at Pierre for a long moment, before murmuring, "I'm not sure I understand."

"Are you going to get in the shower, or what?" Pierre asked, raising an eyebrow. "I haven't got all day."

"But-" Kurt started quietly, dread overwhelming the muscles in his body and pumping through his veins.

"But what? You don't expect me you leave you here unguarded, do you?" Pierre asked with a shrug and a smug smile. "Someone's got to keep an eye on you."

"Sir," Kurt began again, hoping the term of respect that had gotten a semi-good reaction before would help him out, "C-could you guard me from outside the door maybe? There's no window for me to try to sneak out of. I couldn't go anywhere."

"Maybe I want to guard you from in here," Pierre shrugged again, still smiling cruelly.

"I brought some clothes," Blaine interrupted in a small voice, handing Kurt a pair of faded jeans and a grey tee, along with a simple pair of black boxers. He looked from Pierre to Kurt and immediately surmised the situation. He swallowed thickly and looked at Pierre as his lower jaw trembled, "Pierre- do you want me to- um uh- to go to your room?"

Kurt's eyes widened and he looked over at Blaine, shaking his head and mouthing at him 'No. Don't.'

"Wait for me there," Pierre ordered simply. "I'm almost done here."

Blaine nodded his head and left the bathroom, hoping his words had been significant enough to keep Kurt from being hurt.

"Well," Pierre spoke again in a demanding tone, "take off your clothes."

Kurt's hands shook and he reached for his shirt and pulled it over his head. He reached down for his slacks and removed them too when Pierre waved his hands, but he made no movement to try to take off his boxers. Instead he stood, shaking in his underwear, his pale, toned body on display.

He could feel the eyes running over him and he shuddered visibly when Pierre's tongue flicked up over his top lip.

"It's good that you decided to listen to me," Pierre spoke suddenly, stepping towards the door and letting Kurt give out a sigh of relief, until he realized where Pierre would be going. "I'll be bolting you in. So once you're done you'll just have to wait until I get you, or tell Blaine to get you."

The door slammed, a lock clicking in place and Kurt felt himself collapsing to the floor. He sat there trembling for a long moment, until he could hear the muffled noises from the room down the hall. He wanted to scream for help, for anyone, but he couldn't make himself do it. He was too afraid that the sounds would set Pierre off and Blaine really would be killed this time. Instead he clambered back to his feet and turned on the shower.

He couldn't make himself listen to it if he didn't have to. He knew that this time was his fault. Blaine had suggested it to protect him.

He shrugged off his boxers and stepped under the hot spray, letting it wash away the dirt and grime from the past two days, but not the guilt or the fear. If anything it only served to disguise his tears.

* * *

><p><em>August 2012<em>

Pierre's hand squeezed around his wrist as Blaine stared around at the people walking passed the small table they were sitting at outside the café. His free hand was wrapped around the coffee Pierre had bought him, a non-fat mocha in honour of the boy he'd never see again.

They needed a reason for being in the area after all and time to scope out the best areas to 'bump' into someone and possible escape paths if anyone got suspicious.

He sipped at the scalding liquid, turning his head looking down at the glass table. His body ached slightly, but his face was clear from bruises. Pierre had been avoiding hitting him in noticeable places in preparation for this day.

"You're to stay where I can see you at all times," Pierre whispered in a low voice, his fingers squeezing around his wrist to gather his attention.

He nodded his head, staring at the coffee silently.

"You see a cop you come to me immediately," Pierre added menacingly, moving his head a little closer to Blaine's whispering, "and if you try to tell anyone anything and I swear to God February will seem like a vacation, got it?"

He nodded his head again vigorously, his eyes flickering up timidly as he clenched his fingers slightly over his paper cup.

"We're not going to do anything today," Pierre told him, leaning back a little in the chair. "Today you're going to familiarize yourself with the area. When we get home I expect you to be able to draw a rough sketch of the area and you're going to tell me the best spots and routes to get back to the apartment undetected."

Blaine licked his lips, nodding again. He was almost afraid to speak out loud. It had been nearly six months since he'd been outside and a year since he'd started his life of captivity. He didn't want to screw this up. He didn't want to rob or pickpocket people either, but he didn't exactly have a choice. Besides, feeling the sun on his face almost made it worth it.

"Finish your coffee," Pierre told him with a roll of his eyes, "I'm sick of this little shit hole."

He actually liked the little café. It reminded him of the Lima Bean back in Ohio, but he drained his still hot coffee obediently and stood up when Pierre lightly tugged on his wrist.

The grip on his wrist fell and his eyes darted to Pierre in surprise. The older man was giving him a stern glare, warning him silently of what would happen if he broke the trust he was putting in him. It was obvious that he'd regret trying to run the moment the thought would pass through his mind.

He stayed at Pierre's side, walking down the street and taking in the different shops and stores lining it, as well as the patterns in which people bustled along the sidewalk. He noted the alleys too.

The alleys would probably come in handy in case someone ever got suspicious, but honestly he hated them. He couldn't help but remember the things that had taken place the last two times he'd been in an alleyway. They had been the start of this whole mess. Sure Pierre would have probably eventually gotten to him anyway and kept him no matter what, but the connotation was still there.

He looked back to his left, expecting to see Pierre next to him when someone bumped into him and an elbow jabbed into his ribs; the ones he was sure Pierre had at least cracked last week during a pickpocket training session. He hissed, stumbling to his knees and half expecting Pierre to haul him back to his feet, but the man was nowhere to be seen.

Pierre was going to kill him.

He scrambled back up to his feet, making his way to the side of the walk and letting his eyes search desperately for Pierre. Maybe if he stayed where he was and waited for Pierre to find him he wouldn't be punished too severely.

His hands clenched against his faded jeans and he searched the crowd for the tall blond man, chewing on his lip.

"Hey, you're looking lost." His head jerked to the side to see a slim girl with light brown hair looking at him with a half-smile. "Need some help?"

"Just waiting for someone," he muttered nervously, trying to brush her off. The girl was pretty with her almond shaped green eyes and thin lips. He hated to think of what Pierre might do to her if he thought she would get in the way. He didn't need her to be another Claire.

"If you tell me you're waiting for your girlfriend you'll be breaking my heart," she joked with a bright smile.

"No," he shook his head, not looking at her but still examining the crowd.

"Well in that case maybe you'd like to join me for a light lunch," she leaned in to place a hand on his arm.

He flinched backward and noticed her frown at the movement, "Sorry but I don't think that's a good idea. I wouldn't want my- um- friend to not be able to find me."

"My name's Kathy," she stuck out her hand, smiling a little again.

"Hi Kathy," he shook her hand quickly, swallowing.

"You don't have to be nervous you know," she told him, before joking with him again. "By the way this is usually where you tell me your name."

He considered lying for a moment, but instead he just gave her a weak smile and no answer.

"Well Mr. Mysterious," she pulled a scrap of paper out of her pocket and scribbled some numbers down, "if you ever do want to tell me your name you can give me a call or a text, okay?"

He blinked at her as the scrap of paper was pushed gently into his hands. He turned to the crowd again, only to find Pierre standing directly in front of him. The man was glaring down at him with piercing eyes.

"I don't think he's interested," Pierre snapped at Kathy, taking the paper from Blaine's hand and ripping it into shreds. "He plays for the other team."

"I'm guessing this was who you were waiting for?" Kathy flushed a deep red colour as Blaine nodded.

"Yeah, we got- um- separated in the crowd. I'm not used to the city," he murmured a half truthful explanation to the flustered looking young woman. "I should have told you I was gay sooner, but I was anxious to find my- uh- boyfriend."

"God I'm sorry. I didn't realize-" She stopped and shook her head, sending a frown at Pierre. "Well I'm sorry I bothered you, but you should think about finding a nicer boyfriend. He's kind of rude."

"We're leaving," Pierre snapped, apparently having enough of Kathy. His hand gripped Blaine's in a painfully tight grip, apparently in keeping with the boyfriend ruse and started to pull him back to the sidewalk.

Once they reached the car a block away he let himself be pushed roughly into the passenger seat and buckled his seatbelt quickly. As Pierre got in the other side he hazarded to speak up, "It was an accident I swear. Someone elbowed me and I fell. I swear I was looking for you when she just started talking to me."

Pierre ignored him with a grim smirk as he started the vehicle. "She was pretty. I was almost tempted to make you lure her back to the apartment. It probably would have been too easy. She obviously liked you."

Blaine's face paled despite the fact he knew Pierre hadn't actually done it. He knew exactly what this man was capable of, but it didn't stop his stomach from sinking uncomfortably.

"It's really too bad we can't afford the attention that would cause, not after little miss Claire," Pierre let out a mirthless, dark sounding chuckle, before adding dangerously, "I thought I told you to stay in my sight at all times?"

"I'm sorry. It was an accident," he insisted, his hands started clutching his knees tightly. "God, as soon as I realized I didn't know where you were I stopped walking and started looking for you. I didn't mean to get lost, I promise."

"You won't be getting lost anymore, that's for sure," Pierre snapped at him, his hands tight on the steering wheel. "When we get home you're going to learn the consequences of getting lost, aren't you?"

"It wasn't my fault-"

_"Aren't you?"_

He let out a small whimper. It didn't matter what he said. It was going to happen, but he could make it easier on himself. He stopped arguing and just let out a quiet murmur, "Yes."

* * *

><p><strong>August 2012<strong>

His fist hovered in front of the door for a second before he knocked shortly. Almost immediately the door swung inward and Brianna was waving him into the house, "Hi Kurt. Everyone's just in the living room."

Wow, she almost sounds like herself again, he thought to himself as he was beckoned into the house.

It was almost strange how often he was over there, but then again it was soothing to be in the place that reminded him so much of Blaine. It hurt, oh Gaga did it hurt, but it was worth it to remember the boy he still loved so fervently.

Somehow he felt it was soothing for the Anderson's too. He'd grown close with Joey and Bri was still standoffish, but she had those moments were her true colours would finally shine through. Out of everyone in Glee club she'd only managed to grow close to Santana and himself.

He stepped into the living room with a small smile, "Hi."

"Kurt!" Mrs. Anderson rose to her feet and immediately engulfed him in a soft hug. "It's been too long dear. I'm so glad you could join us for dinner. It's going to be sad to see you go."

He hugged her back and gave a weak smile, "I'll miss you guys too, but you know I'll come visit right?"

"You'd better," Bianca told him firmly. "I don't know what I'd do without my third son."

He swallowed the thick lump that came into his throat at her words; the reminder that there used to be two Anderson boys instead of just one. "I will, I promise. Every time I come back to Lima I'll come see you."

She herded him into a sitting position on the couch next to Joey and his girlfriend Vanessa. The girl had actually moved from California when Joey dropped out of school to help him get over Blaine's death. Despite that he barely knew her he admired just how much she was willing to do for the man she loved.

He only wished he still had the opportunity to do what she could.

"So there's some big news, actually several pieces of big news," Joey was the next to speak up, addressing not only Kurt but the biological members of his family as well. "I'm sorry I didn't say earlier, but I wanted the whole family here before I broke the news."

Kurt felt his eyes getting misty. The Andersons had slowly grown to truly consider him a part of the family, but he couldn't help but remember that the 'whole' family wasn't actually here. Blaine was still gone.

"I've asked Vanessa to marry me." He let it out with a big breath before adding hurriedly, "Almost immediately after I asked her she told me she's pregnant. Once we're married- I'm going to apply to the police academy."

Mouths dropped open all around the room and several people started talking at once.

"When did this happen?"

"Why didn't you talk to me baby?"

"I will not lose another son!" Leo's voice boomed above the rest, sounding somewhat wobbly. "Joey, I congratulate you on finally asking this wonderful girl to be part of our family and the new addition you're expecting, but I forbid you to continue this police thing."

"Dad I'm twenty-three years old. You can't forbid me-"

"Joseph Leonard Anderson," the full name was brought out and suddenly Kurt felt decidedly out of place. They considered him family, but somehow this conversation -this argument- seemed much too private for him to be listening in on. "Do you know what police officers do? They get shot- they get murdered for just doing their job-"

"They protect people Dad," Joey reminded his father sharply.

"They got Blaine killed-"

"That's not what happened and you know it," Joey snapped, his voice rising even louder than his fathers.

"I was there Joey," Leo's voice cracked and it was then Kurt noticed the empty bottle of scotch that was half hidden between the end table and the leather recliner. "I know what happened. I was there. That siren set the bastard off and he shot my little boy. He killed him. I know that officer was just doing his job and it was a wrong place wrong time kind of thing, but it still got my little boy killed. I lost my son Joey. I lost my little boy." There was a quiet pause, "Police work is dangerous Joey. I can't- I can't lose you too. You're going to be looking for murderers just like the one that took Blaine from us and- and they'll- they'll hurt you."

"No Dad, I'll catch them," Joey's tone was softer than Kurt expected, his eyes darting from one Anderson to the other. "I'll catch them and I'll protect people like I couldn't protect my brother. I need to make the world- or at least Lima- a safer place Dad. I need to know my child will be safe."

"Joey-"

"Leo," Kurt cut in tentatively, peering at Mr. Anderson's face and taking in the reddened rims of his eyes and the slight shaking in his hands. By the looks of it no one was going to say anything, so he continued in a careful tone, "Maybe I'm overstepping here, but you should probably lie down. You can continue this conversation when you're thinking a little more clearly." _And sober,_ he added silently to himself.

All eyes were on him now and he swallowed convulsively at the attention.

Leo just stared at him for a long moment, looking surprised, but not angry, that someone had actually nearly called him on his problem. "I- maybe you're right Kurt. I should go lie down." The man stood precariously and leaned into his wife when Bianca moved to support him.

"Daddy," Brianna spoke up in a soft voice, sounding so much more like her previous self. "I got some pamphlets from my guidance counsellor at school. Could you look at them in the morning? I'll leave them on the coffee table."

Leo's bloodshot eyes fell on his only daughter and he nodded his head, "Of course Princess."

Brianna's hand slipped into her bag and set out a few pamphlets on the table. Kurt recognized them as ones similar to the others Ms. Pillsbury kept in her office. _Daddy's Drunk, What Do I Do? Alcohol: Are You Boozin' for a Bruisin'?_ There was also one that looked a little more adult-like _Alcoholics' Anonymous: A Twelve Step Program for Recovery._

"I'm sorry," Kurt spoke up quietly, addressing Vanessa and Joey. "I probably shouldn't have said anything. I- I must have put a damper on your news. I-"

"I'm glad someone was brave enough to call him out on it," Joey let out a sigh as he stopped Kurt's apologies, his hand resting on Vanessa's knee. "Ness and I- well actually all of us are worried about him, but Ness and I want him to be around for his grandchild and- the drinking's getting worse but none of us knew how to bring it up."

He nodded his head slightly. He knew exactly how hard it was to have to try to tell your parents to smarten up and start taking care of themselves. It was never an easy task.

"We're going to miss you around here Kurt," Joey murmured quietly, letting out a long sigh. There was a long pause before Joey spoke again, "Kurt- Ness and I are going to get married during Thanksgiving, before she starts to show too much. I- I want you to be my best man."

Tears burst into his eyes and he squeezed them back. That job was supposed to be Blaine's. As much as he was touched by just how tightly he'd been brought into the folds of the Anderson family, replacing Blaine was too much. "I- I don't know if I can- Joey-"

"Please Kurt. If I can't have my brother there standing with me, I at least want the person who would have probably become my brother-in-law to be. You're the only person he wouldn't be angry with me for asking. You won't be replacing him Kurt. You'll just be… standing in for him. Kurt I need you to do this for me, please."

He swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded his head dumbly. Somehow even a year later the thought of Blaine missing out on the events he was meant to be at made his heart break all over again.

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><p><strong>AN**: Hoped you like it. Review please? Pretty please?


	12. Chapter 12: Stop

**Summary: **Two years ago Kurt's boyfriend was kidnapped and supposedly murdered. Two years ago Blaine was ripped away and brainwashed into believing his captor loved him. It's two years later and they've been reunited, but it's not everything they imagined it would be.

**Warning**: Noncon, violence, attempted suicide.

**A/N**: So part of this chapter is thanks to an idea given to me by one of my lovely reviews Amethyst-unicorn who gave me the great idea of Pierre's threat after he catches Blaine in his latest 'escape' attempt. I still find it so hard to believe that someone has headcannon for my story. I feel so honoured, especially since the idea was fantastic.

Also just realized half the names in here are somehow connected to the people in my theatre class. Seriously there a Clare, a Vanessa, a girl with the last name Bennett, and last year there was a Brianna. Shh, don't tell them, especially Clare…

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><p>Chapter 12: Stop<p>

September 2013

Kurt finished dressing himself in the cheap clothing when he heard the bolt locking the bathroom door shut slide open. His body froze stiffly, until he saw a shaggy, curly haired head poke inside, "Hi."

Kurt's eyes ran over Blaine quietly at the boy's hoarse greeting, noticing the purple, finger shaped bruises that were lining his arms and focused intently on his wrists. Blaine's wrists- they were almost completely reddish purple. They even gave the red chafing on Kurt's wrists from the ropes a run for their money.

"Why would you do that?" Kurt whispered, moving forward when Blaine beckoned him over quietly. "Please don't- don't ever do that again. Having to hear him hurt you, rape you, Blaine, it breaks my heart every time.

"I can't do that Kurt. He- he would have- It's better me than you and it wasn't as bad this time." Blaine finished awkwardly, wrapping a hand lightly over Kurt's wrist. He pulled him forward gently toward the room they'd shared the night before. "Pierre said I can leave you untied as long as we're bolted in my room. It'll mean an early night, but we could talk and- it'll be easier on your wrists if they have a break."

Pierre was standing in the hallway staring at them, his eyes running over Kurt hungrily. Blaine caught sight of the look and almost immediately Kurt was being shoved into the bedroom, out of Pierre's eyesight.

Blaine shakily closed the door behind them and waited for the sound of the door bolting shut. The tenseness in the boy's muscles only relaxed once it did and he sank down wearily onto the bed, rolling onto his side.

"What did you mean?" Kurt whispered in a thick voice, sitting on the edge of the bed and resting a hand on Blaine's shoulder. "What did you mean when you said better you than me?"

"Just that," Blaine mumbled, his head shifting over to rest in Kurt's lap. "He's had me before. I'm used to it. You- you're- I just can't let you feel that way Kurt. I just can't. I'd rather go through it over and over again than let you experience it just once. Please- just let me do this for you."

"I can't-"

"You don't have a choice," Blaine reminded him, sitting up and wincing slightly as he did. His voice grew firmer as he locked both his eyes on Kurt's one useful one, "Listen to me Kurt. If he rapes you, you're dead. He's not going to use a condom and he won't let you go if he thinks there's evidence that could implicate him or lead anyone to me. He'll kill you Kurt and- and I'm not- I have to try to make sure he doesn't."

Kurt pointed to the eye that was swollen shut and the extensive bruising on his face, "Look at me Blaine. With his temper he might kill me anyways."

"I'm still going to do whatever it takes to minimize that risk," Blaine promised him fervently. "I'll convince him that you won't tell anyone about me because you know it'll put me in danger if people come looking for me. He knows you love me because of what happened earlier so it shouldn't be too hard." There was a quiet pause, "Honestly Kurt you're the only person in this world I can be sure still loves me."

"You left out Pierre," Kurt noted, licking his cracked lips. "Somewhere Blaine, you know he doesn't love you, not really."

"It was a slip of the tongue, that's all," he mumbled, turning his head away from the other boy.

Kurt took his hand and held it tightly in both of his. "Why didn't you mention your family? You know they love you Blaine. Didn't you hear me when I told you what they're going through? Your dad is miserable without you and you're mom never gave up hope. They miss you Blaine. They love you. You have to know that."

"They're pretending," Blaine pulled his hand away, turning his back completely on Kurt. "I know that now."

"Brianna still has your seventeenth birthday present wrapped in her room. She says it's a reminder, to keep the memory of her brother and her best friend fresh because every time she sees it she remembers how excited she was when she found it for you and how much she wanted to see your face when you opened it." Kurt stood up from the bed and moved around so Blaine was facing him.

"Your mother always talks about when 'her Blaine comes home' because she honestly believes that you will. She says she feels it in her heart that her baby boy is still out there. Obviously she was right; that bond she feels is real, but it's killing her that despite her belief in you that she can't hug or hold you."

"Your dad is still struggling his way through AA. He's doing better now, I think, but it's so hard for him Blaine. He tried to use alcohol as a way to forget how much it hurts not having his youngest son around. He misses his little boy- that what he says when he talks about why he succumbed to alcoholism. It doesn't matter that you were sixteen when you were taken. It doesn't matter that you're nineteen now. You'll always be his little boy and he will always miss you unless we get you home."

Blaine still refused to look at him, but his jaw was starting to tremble.

"Joey blames himself. I swear he beats himself up daily for not giving you that ride home," Kurt explained, dropping to his knees and finding Blaine's eyes again. "He misses his little brother so much, you know."

"Joey never gave a shit about me!" Blaine growled loudly, standing up and stalking away from Kurt, despite that he couldn't go far in the small room.

There was a bang on the wall and they both froze momentarily as Pierre shouted, "Shut up!" through the wall. When there were no footsteps Kurt sat down heavily on the bed and looked at Blaine.

The other boy had his hands in his hair and his face was streaked with wet trails. His eyes were shining wide at Kurt, looking utterly lost. "He told me they didn't care; that they didn't love me anymore and that- that they never did."

"He lied, honey," Kurt let out in a quiet voice, beckoning Blaine over to him with open arms. He let the other boy settle into them as they sat together on the bed. "Joey broke when he was told you died. Vanessa- his girlfriend- she had to hold him together as he dropped out of school. It took him a year to get his shit together. He- he applied to the police academy shortly after marrying her, you know? He- he wanted to do some good, because he feels like he failed you."

"He- he really misses me that much?" Blaine asked, his voice sounding so uncertain and hopeful that it was almost painful.

"Yes. You know they named their son after you," Kurt kept his voice soft as he cuddled Blaine close to him. "Joey calls him B.B. He's only five months old."

"B.B.?" Blaine's voice quieted.

"Blaine Bennett Anderson is his full name," Kurt explained in a weak voice.

"Bennett?"

"After Vanessa's father," Kurt let it out in a murmur as Blaine's head rested against his shoulder. "B.B., he looks exactly like your baby pictures and I know- I know it's painful for Joey because he looks so much like you and he shares your name but he always says it's worth the pain because it's a constant reminder of his little brother."

"He- when he five and I was born he couldn't pronounce my name," Blaine whispered after a moment, "so he-he called me B.B."

"I know," Kurt said in a thick voice, "but he doesn't do it to replace you, you know that, right? He does it to remember you. He-He always says he's terrified of forgetting and- and yet I think he wishes he could at the same time. At least he wishes he could forget that last conversation you had."

"I didn't even say anything. I was crying too hard. Pierre had just-"

Kurt couldn't let Blaine finish the sentence, despite that he already knew how it would end, "He doesn't count that one because you didn't say anything and he couldn't finish. He means the other one, right before you were taken. He- he hates that the last thing you said to him was that he was a shitty brother. He said it was worse because it was true. He really does blame himself for what happened."

"Pierre would have gotten to me some other time," Blaine mumbled, chewing on his lip as he pressed himself closer to Kurt's chest, relishing in the feeling of being held. "It wasn't a normal kidnapping you know? He- the whole ransom thing was a ruse to try to get enough money to hide me away forever or something. It was never really about the money- it was always about me. He said the money was supposed to be the icing on the cake."

"I guess you were the cake," Kurt swallowed the painful lump in his throat. "God Blaine, we need to get you out of here. Do you know how much harder it's going to be for your family to know you're still out here being forced to- being held prisoner-"

"That's why you're not going to tell them," Blaine cut in quickly. "Trust me Kurt it's a bad idea. If Pierre thinks he might get caught, or someone might find me or something- he'll want to run and he'll kill me so I won't slow him down. That's why he wanted my parents' money- so he could just bribe people- money gets you places fast, but without it- I'll be holding him back. Kurt- please, just please don't say anything. I don't- I don't want to die, please."

"Answer something for me," Kurt looked down at him for a long moment, before asking in a careful voice, "How can you believe he loves you if you're so sure he'd have no qualms about killing you?"

"I just- he- he- Kurt I can't- just stop," he broke from the embrace, running his hands haphazardly through his curls and dropped to his knees on the floor as tears flooded his face again.

"Blaine?" He sat still, unsure of what he could do to make Blaine understand, or at least comfort him.

"Please Kurt, just stop. Stop, you're confusing me!"

"Okay," Kurt whispered, unable to take the sight of Blaine looking so broken and mislaid.

Blaine looked up at him in wonderment, his hands falling to his sides.

"Blaine, what is it?" He asked, frowning at the bewilderment Blaine was gazing at him with. He moved off the bed and knelt down in front of him, taking Blaine's hands gently. "Blaine, why are you looking at me like that?"

"You stopped," Blaine told him, blinking slowly, "Why?"

"Because you asked me to," Kurt answered him in a slow voice. "You asked me to stop and I love you, so I did."

"When someone loves you they should stop when you ask them too," Blaine stated in a soft voice, still sounding a little perplexed. He looked back down at the floor for a minute, "Pierre doesn't do that."

Kurt stayed silent, letting Blaine come to the conclusions on his own.

"I'm so- I'm so confused Kurt. I don't- I don't know what to believe anymore," he whispered, his voice sounding incredibly small and young. "He has to love me. He has to, but- I just-" he broke off, shaking his head. "He loves me. He has to. If he didn't I'd be dead and I'm alive- so- so he has to."

Kurt kept true to his word and didn't push. He didn't point out to Blaine just how flawed his logic really was. Instead he just gathered the younger boy back into his arms and carefully rocked him back and forth.

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><p><em>September 2012<em>

The door to the apartment opened and Blaine looked up in surprise when a rainbow sprinkled cupcake was set in front of him on the table. He blinked, staring at Pierre in confusion. The only thing Pierre ever bought him was coffee when they went out, and even that was few and far between.

Pierre was smirking at him, before the man let out a chuckle. "You don't remember do you? Come on Blainey, what's today?"

Blaine shrugged his shoulders. He rarely knew what day it was. All he knew was it was summer time, and possibly getting close to fall. If he hazarded a guess it was probably late August or early September.

He paused, looking at the cupcake, then back at Pierre. "Is- Is today September third?" He asked in a quiet voice, his fingers picking off the paper wrapping on the cupcake.

"Ding, ding, ding, give the boy a prize," Pierre snickered with a roll of his eyes.

He took a bite of the cupcake and savoured the sweetness. He couldn't remember the last time he had a sweet. It was certainly before his time with Pierre. "Thank you," he murmured in a quiet voice after swallowing the first bite.

His seventeenth birthday hadn't been celebrated, but at the time he hadn't been allowed to be untied for longer than it took for him to take a shower or get changed.

Pierre shrugged his shoulders at the thanks and just gave a short laugh, before adding wryly. "Don't get used to it. I just figured since I'm not a pedophile anymore we ought to celebrate."

The next bite went down painfully, the icing now almost too sweet on his tongue. He was an adult now, eighteen years old. He knew that eventually he would get too old and that wouldn't be rewarded with a cupcake. It would be punished, probably with a bullet in his head.

Sometimes it felt like that might be easier. The pain would finally stop and he'd never have to suffer in Pierre's bedroom ever again. It was a tempting thought, for everything to stop.

Some days his eyes would flicker to the knife block. It was the last way he'd want to end it, especially after what he'd been forced to watch happen to Claire. Honestly it was his fear of the stinging pain that kept him from slicing his wrists open and letting his blood run one last final time.

Now that he knew it was his birthday though, it seemed like the perfect time. He just didn't want to use a knife to do it.

"Get in the bedroom," Pierre smiled at him, his face twisting cruelly. "I have another idea for a little celebration. What do you think?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "It doesn't matter what I think." He stood wearily and padded over to the bedroom, very aware of the man following him.

Pierre just laughed in appreciation of his statement. "Glad you've figured that out."

An hour later he was slowly picking up his clothing from the floor by the end of the bed, his body trembling and yet somehow still feeling incredibly dull and detached. It was then that he noticed some of the green nylon rope lying just under the bed by his jeans.

Opportunity was knocking, so he answered.

Very carefully he shoved it into his pant leg, cradling his clothes to his chest as he exited the room and moved quickly over to his own bedroom.

It would be ironic, killing himself on his eighteenth birthday, after just over a year of captivity. Everyone else already thought he was dead, so it wasn't like he was going to be hurting anyone. He'd just be depriving Pierre of beating and raping him any longer. The man couldn't punish him if he was already dead.

He would finally be taking control back over his own body.

He pulled the length of rope from the pant leg, not bothering to dress in more than just his boxers. He tied a tight noose around his neck, his hands shaking slightly as he fumbled with the knot before he attached the other end to the door knob.

Then he stood on his knees, before tilting his body forward so the noose pulled tight around him.

It hurt. It hurt more than he thought it would, but it was nothing in comparison to some of the beatings he endured.

Just a little more pain, he told himself, just a little longer and you won't have to feel it anymore. You're going to die anyway. He's going to kill you. Don't let him. Take back control. Make it stop.

His face felt like it was swelling, but his determination won out as black spots span in his vision. Everything was so close to black when his legs slid out from under him and body slumped against the door, causing a loud bang.

No, no, no, no, he thought as he heard loud footsteps and the door slammed open against his back.

Pierre's blurry form was suddenly crouched in front of him, holding his body up with one arm and the other hand loosened the noose from his neck until his body starting automatically gasping in air.

"No," he croaked desperately, as Pierre's hand moved to loop the noose over his head and off of him.

"Shh," Pierre shushed him roughly, "save your breath." The hands hefted him to his feet, before dragging him over to the bed and letting him flop limply onto it, still breathing deeply. Pierre moved away for a moment, before coming back with the rope, "What the hell were you thinking?"

He didn't answer; his body was too heavy with exhaustion and lack of oxygen. His hands were brought before him and bound tightly before being brought up over his head and attached to the headboard.

A hand gripped his chin and pulled his head around so he was looking directly at Pierre, "You ever pull a stunt like that again and there will be hell to pay."

Blaine just let out a soft choking, extremely bitter laugh. If there was a next time he'd just do it when Pierre wasn't home and the hell his life had become would be far behind him. "Can't hurt me if I'm dead," he muttered hoarsely.

"And to think I thought I'd beaten all the snark out of you," Pierre laughed lightly, although the undertone held no mirth whatsoever. "Guess I was wrong, huh?"

He didn't answer, but he could tell Pierre was pissed. He could see it in the tenseness of the fingers holding his chin and the tightness in the man's face as he gazed at him. He was no longer afraid of dying and that was half the hold the man had on him; half of what controlled him.

Pierre hated not being in control.

"Now I know you think you don't need to be afraid of me anymore," Pierre started, his voice suddenly deadly cold, "since you think the life I've provided for you here is so beneath you, but you'd be wrong." There was a pause as the fingers squeezed his chin tighter, "See if I don't have you I'm going to have to get my hands on someone else."

He tried to look away, not wanting to think about putting some other teen in his situation, but the hand just jerked him again so their eyes locked.

"Oh what, you don't care about what might happen to that person as long as it's not you, huh? Well that's funny because I haven't even finished yet. I'm pretty partial to you Blaine. I like the way you look, so if I was going to go after someone else, well they'd have to look like you, now wouldn't they?"

He felt his entire body stiffen at the implication.

"I like you Blaine, but really while you're a good lay for a boy and all, I might miss girls a little. It's been a while since I touched a boob and while you might not think so, they're actually pretty great. Girls always cry so pretty when you touch them, especially the young ones. You know, young like fifteen years old."

He pulled at the ropes on his wrists a little, his heart tightening.

"With pretty black hair just like yours," a hand reached forward to touch one of his curls, "and those same hazel-green eyes. I have to say the whole cheerleader outfit thing is pretty cute too."

"Oh God," he whispered, his voice starting to fail him. He remembered February and every word Pierre had said to him that night so clearly, especially the news of his family and his parent's cheerleader daughter. He was talking about Brianna, his sweet, innocent little sister. "No, please no."

"But Blaine, she's so pretty and if I don't have you what am I supposed to do?" Pierre asked in a soft voice.

"You have me," he pulled hard on the ropes, his voice still pained and croaky. "You have me."

"I won't if you kill yourself or force me to kill you-"

"I won't. I promise I won't. Don't- not her, please," he whispered desperately, keeping his eyes dry. He could endure anything if it meant keeping his little sister from suffering like this. "I don't want to die. I don't. Let me live. Don't hurt her. Please."

"Do you love your sister Blainey?" Pierre asked him in a dark voice and he nodded his head urgently. "Good, well if you want her to stay safe then you're going to have to be a good boy for me from now on? No more of this running or killing yourself shit. You die when I decide, understood?"

"I understand," he mumbled. "I'll do anything, anything, just please don't hurt her."

"I won't," Pierre answered him, his voice still cold, "as long as I have you. However if I lose you I might have to go back to Lima and look for a replacement and she'd be at the top of my list."

"You won't lose me," he promised, his body lying limp against the bed even as his voice was earnest, "ever. I'm here. I'm yours. You don't need her. You-you've got me."

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><p><strong>September 2012<strong>

"I think Kurt's depressed," Rachel muttered to her boyfriend as she came into the small living room of the apartment the three shared from the tiny kitchen.

Finn looked at her dumbly before saying in a quiet, almost sarcastic voice, "Ya think?"

She furrowed her eyebrows at him for a moment, "What?"

"Rachel," Finn shook his head softly, "and you say I'm oblivious." He took in a quiet breath before asking her in a slightly pointed manner, "What's Kurt doing in there?"

"Stress baking I think," she nodded her head knowledgably. "I'm pretty sure he's making cupcakes-"

"Red velvet," Finn finished before she could. "They were Blaine's favourite." At her surprised look Finn shrugged his shoulders, "He's my brother. After Blaine died it was me, mom or Burt who held him while he cried himself to sleep at night. We talked a lot about Blaine. He needed it."

"Okay so what do the cupcakes-"

"He made them last year too," Finn cut her off quietly. "Rachel- it's, or it would have been, Blaine's birthday today; his eighteenth."

"Oh," she frowned softly, her eyes shining with sadness. "I should have known- I remember Kurt asking me and Mercedes to go shopping with him last year to get him a birthday present, but- well he died before we ever went on that trip."

"It's hard for him," Finn took a deep breath, "Today and the anniversary of the day Blaine was killed are the hardest I think. It's only been a year; he's allowed to be depressed. I think it would be weird if he wasn't."

"Mhmm," she murmured in agreement, looking towards the kitchen again. "Maybe we can cheer him up? I- offer a shopping trip or something?"

"I don't think that'll be enough-"

"Do you think he'd let me set him up on a date-"

"Rachel," Finn hissed. He understood that his girlfriend was just trying to help, but she couldn't seem to understand that what Kurt needed wasn't a shopping trip or new boyfriend. He needed a friend, a sounding board and a shoulder to cry on.

"I meant-" she sank down into the couch, "not now. In a few months maybe, and only if he's okay with it. I just- he seems lonely."

They both heard the quiet sobs coming from the kitchen and Finn wearily stood up, before moving passed his girlfriend. "He's still grieving Rach, a new boyfriend isn't going to fix that." Moments later he was in the kitchen wrapping his arms around his brother tightly.

When Rachel followed him he gave her a look, but she didn't say a word as Kurt muttered about the hurt that never seemed to stop. Instead she set the timer on the oven and slipped the tray of cupcake batter inside.

"Kurt?" Rachel finally spoke timidly, reaching her hand out and placing it delicately on his shoulder. "It's okay to miss him, you know? It's okay that it still hurts. It's okay to cry."

Kurt looked over at her momentarily, his eyes blue and watery like the sea, "I-I think- I think maybe you're right."

"Of course I am. No one should ever try to make you think it's not okay-"

"No," he shook his head and swallowed thickly, "I- maybe I could use a new boyfriend- or a date or something. It won't fix it I know, but- I am lonely and Blaine- he'd want me to be happy, right?"

"Kurt I-"

"I know I have you and Finn, but it's about time."

"Dude there's no set limit on grief-"

"Rachel if you meet someone you'd think I'd like, let me know okay?" He asked, pulling himself away from his brother and straightening his clothes.

She couldn't deny him when he looked at her with eyes so haunted and yet somehow hopeful, "I- okay."

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><p><strong>AN:** I am SO TIRED and yet I stayed up after work to edit and post this. I think that should earn me some reviews, don't you? :P


	13. Chapter 13: I Love You

**Summary**: Two years ago Kurt's boyfriend was kidnapped and supposedly murdered. Two years ago Blaine was ripped away and brainwashed into believing his captor loved him. Its two years later and they've been reunited, but it's not everything they imagined it would be.

**Warning**: Non-explicit mentions of non-con. Some violence as well. Also mentions of suicidal thoughts (past mentions).

**A/N**: Seriously if polygamy wasn't illegal I'd marry all of you! You're all so amazing! Thank you for the wonderful feedback. Literally Friday and Saturday were amazing because I was overwhelmed! Ugh, just thanks. You rock!

Shortish chapter compared to the others and not my favourite, but I hope you like it anyways. If it makes you feel any better Chapter 14 is an angst-fest (not that that's anything new). Chapter 14 will be up on time on Friday the 9th; however Chapter 15 will be postponed until the Friday afterwards (March 16th instead of 13th) because my sister is visiting. I only have her a few days so I need to make the most of it while I can.

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><p>Chapter 13: I Love You<p>

September 2013

"Dude, come in," Finn opened the door and beckoned the older man in quietly. He closed it behind him and latched the three locks closed before offering to take one of Joey's two large duffel bags. "Thanks for coming."

"This one's the money," Joey said softly, putting down a dark blue duffel bag. "I talked to my parents and yours. Your step-dad… it would have taken him more than a week to get the money together so my parents- they really care about Kurt as a part of the family."

Finn briefly hugged the other boy in gratitude and the moment his arms drew away Rachel had thrown herself into Joey's arms, hugging him tight.

Joey's arms wrapped around her awkwardly for a moment, "Hi- um- it's Rachel right? You're Kurt's best friend?"

She nodded her head as she pulled back, "Thank you so much for coming. I- we didn't know what to do and Kurt always talks about you and how you're moving up the ranks really fast, so… thank you. We- we really need your help."

"I don't know how much help I'll be," Joey murmured when the girl pulled out of the hug. "I can't go on the drop. If more than one person goes he might be suspicious. Depending on how sophisticated this guy is he might have done some research to. If he's been watching you he'll expect Finn to be there so Finn should be the one to go."

"But-"

"I won't be far away I promise," Joey interrupted in a soft voice. "You wanted my opinion on how to get Kurt back safely and that's it. Pay the ransom and don't spook the guy." He turned his attention to Finn, "No matter what he says or what he does, give him the money. Try to get him to let you see Kurt if he's there, or talk to him on the phone if he's not. If he's not there he might have a partner. If he doesn't let you, don't argue. Just give him the money."

"Joey-"

"My dad got so worried about Blaine, about what the man said he did to him, that he held off handing over the money. He was too busy yelling and trying to ask Blaine if he was alright. My brother died- so… don't do that, okay?"

"Give him the money, got it," Finn gave a quick nod, his fists clenching and unclenching nervously. "So- if I like need you or whatever-"

"I'll call you on your cell phone before you go and you can leave it on. Actually it would be better if you brought Rachel's too. I can call on her phone just in case. If he's really careful he might want to see your phone to make sure you're not on the line with the police-"

"But I will be, won't I?"

"I'm not here in an official capacity. I'm here for Kurt- and for Blaine too," he let out a soft sigh and followed Rachel and Finn into the little living room. He ran a hand over his head, "It would be nice to make a difference for once. Besides if Blaine were here he'd never forgive me if I let something happen to Kurt. I wouldn't forgive myself either-"

"You've never forgiven yourself for what happened to Blaine, have you?" Rachel's voice was soft as she sat next to him and platonically patted his knee. "It still upsets you-"

"Ness always tells me I can't let the guilt eat away at me, but it's hard," he took in a deep breath. "He's my brother and I wasn't there for him. Every time I look at my son I see my brother. It's wonderful to have that reminder of Blaine, but it also reminds me of how badly I screwed up."

"You acted a little immature so what? That's not what killed him-"

"Isn't it?" He shook his head. "He needed a ride home and he was kidnapped because I said no. Then that man took my brother's virginity, raped him, before he killed him. I just can't imagine how terrified he was. It kills me to know that he didn't get to feel safe before he died. He didn't get that magical first time everyone dreams about. Instead it was all pain and terror and-"

"Joey," Rachel's voice was even softer. "Don't think about those moments. Think about the good ones-"

"I don't think I have any. I never had any time for him. I loved him, he was my brother, but I rarely spent time with him. I'd tease him for a few minutes and then be on my way." He stood up from the couch and grabbed his personal duffel, "Do you guys have a place for me to sleep or should I find a hotel?"

"You can sleep in Kurt's room. I washed the sheets and made it up for you," Rachel's smile was weak. "I know he wouldn't mind. It's not like he's here to sleep in it right now anyway." She motioned towards a short hallway off the living room, before moving to open the door.

The room was small but so _Kurt._ He gave Rachel and Finn a small smile, "I'm going to turn in early I think. All the travelling really tired me out. Goodnight."

"Night Joey," Rachel murmured quietly.

"Night dude," Finn added and Joey shut the small bedroom door.

He set down his duffel on the bed before sinking down into it. Kurt's vanity was pressed against one wall and by the laptop on it he assumed it was currently doubling as a desk. The taupe walls seemed to open the room up against the colour of the soft red comforter.

His eyes flickered to the mahogany nightstand next to the bed. Framed there was Blaine's school picture. His jaw trembled a little. Every morning Kurt woke up to Blaine's face, just like both boys had probably imagined he would- had Blaine lived.

Tomorrow morning he'd wake up to Blaine's face smiling dapperly at him with his gelled down hair and schoolboy smile. It would be hell, mostly because for a moment when he was still half asleep, it would almost be like his brother was alive.

That happened sometimes, more so during the first few months when he'd wake up in the morning at his parent's house and he was still too groggy to remember. At first he'd cherished those moments, until he realized that it meant losing Blaine over and over again.

One thing was for sure. He wasn't about to lose Kurt too.

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><p><em>November 2012<em>

Blaine followed Pierre into the streets. He was fairly good at the pickpocketing thing now. He'd never gotten caught, although there was been one or two close calls when he'd had to race over to Pierre so they could leave and go back to the apartment.

After they got back to the apartment both those times he'd been punished severely.

He chewed on his lip. The only way he could hopefully guarantee being allowed to live longer was to prove he was useful. He knew Pierre found him useful for sex, but had to make sure the man never got tempted to use someone else. He bumped into a stranger a little harder than necessary, stumbling back a little as he tried to lift the man's wallet.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" The man's hand caught his wrist the moment it reached around and yanked it back. The man was holding him roughly, fingers squeezing over the already painful bruises Pierre had left there.

"I'm sorry I just fell," he mumbled, his lips starting to tremble as his eyes sought out Pierre where he was weaving his way through the crowd towards them. "Please let me go I-"

"You were trying to rob me," the man growled, still holding onto him tightly.

"No I-"

"There you are," Pierre's voice gave a sigh of false relief as a hand rested heavily on his shoulder. "I've been looking everywhere for you. Come on, we need to head back."

It was odd hearing Pierre's voice sound so gentle and caring, even if he knew it was all a farce. "I- he won't let me go," Blaine tugged on his wrist, tears forming in his eyes.

Pierre's eyes softened and looked at the man, "Look whatever you think he's done, you're mistaken. He just lost his sister and-" the hand on his shoulder squeezed slightly as the word sister was said with a subtle sharpness, "-he's obviously pretty upset."

"I wasn't looking where I was going," Blaine mumbled, his distress over the fear of what Pierre would do to him when they got back to the apartment apparently translating well into grief because the man's grip fell from his wrist. "I'm sorry. I just- I-"

"Don't apologize," the man's face reddened deeply. "I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. Sorry for your loss." With that said the man was gone in the crowd, leaving Blaine standing there with Pierre's hand on his shoulder.

"Come on, we're going home," Pierre muttered at him darkly, pointing a finger in the general direction of where they parked the car.

He followed as shivers of fear trembled through his body continuously. They only got worse during the deadly silence of the car ride back to the apartment. When they got back, he immediately fell to his knees and hung his head downward. "I'm sorry. It was an accident. I just- I need more training, that's all."

Pierre didn't say a word, instead a withering blow slammed against the side of his head, knocking him over. He lay prone on the floor as he heard Pierre step into the kitchen before there was the sound of a knife being pulled from the block.

He shuddered hard, lying still until he was told to do otherwise.

"Get back on your knees," Pierre growled at him and he scrambled up, his head throbbing with the movement.

He knelt perfectly still, his head turned upwards to stare at Pierre. The man was now holding one of the larger, serrated blades and coming towards his throat. He flinched backward, but didn't move as a hand grasped his hair hard and the edge of the knife rested against his Adam's apple.

"Please I'm sorry," he whispered, trying not to move his throat too much as he pleaded. "I need more training, that's it. Please- please don't-" he was starting to break down despite knowing how much Pierre hated it when he started to cry. "I don't- don't, please."

"Do you want to get caught, is that it?" Pierre asked in a deadly calm voice. "Do you want to get arrested so you can leave me, so you can tell the cops about me? Is that what happened here today, because you know if you even think about trying to run away, or leave me, I will kill you. I will slit your throat just like I did your pretty little friend in February. Or maybe I'll bring out my gun and blow your brains out the back of your throat and you know what'll happen if I do."

"I won't leave you. I won't run. It was an accident, that's all. I swear," he babbled out the words desperately as his neck started to sting, the blade just breaking the skin ever so slightly.

"Why should I believe you Blaine?"

"I won't leave you. I can't. You know I can't. I-I- I love you. I could never leave you." He wasn't sure where the words came from, but he would do or say anything to keep that knife from slicing through his life and dooming his sister.

Pierre just grinned, moving the knife away from his neck. The hand even uncurled from his hair and moved to stroke his cheek almost gently before cupping under his chin. "You love me, do you Blaine?"

He nodded his head minutely, looking up at him with wide eyes. "I do. I love you. You- You take care of me. You could have killed me a long time ago, but you didn't. You've done so much- you let me live. You saved me when- on my birthday-, how could I not love you?"

It almost made sense.

Pierre smiled down at him. It wasn't a tender smile, or a loving smile, but it wasn't malicious either. The hand was still cupped under his chin, tilting his head up and he watched as Pierre leaned over to set the knife on one of the end tables.

Then the hand that had previously been holding the knife stroked gently through his hair. "That's good, Blaine. I'm glad."

He waited for the punishment for failing his pickpocketing. He waited for the hand sifting his hair to twist painfully in it and for the hand cupping his chin to send a backhand across his face, but it never happened.

Instead Pierre stepped away from him and sank into the couch, flicking on the TV. "Get out of the way and make dinner or something."

He moved warily, bewildered at the change in events. He'd been expecting the beating of a lifetime. Instead he'd told Pierre he loved him and avoided the punishment, almost altogether.

Did he love Pierre? He stayed with him out of fear, but there were these moments; moments when the man was almost tender. He lived for those moments. After all it was better than being beaten.

Sometimes Pierre would stroke his hair or cup his cheek. He never kissed him; never hugged or held him other than to occasionally hold him down, but sometimes his touches were more guiding than rough. Sometimes a hand would pat his thigh briefly, or jostle his shoulder playfully.

After his suicide attempt Pierre had very tenderly taken care of him. He hadn't even hit him for trying it- at least not for a few days until his throat had healed and even then it hadn't been too badly. Actually for a few weeks the man had been almost gentle, even in bed.

And now he'd avoided a beating all together, just by telling Pierre that he loved him.

He loved him. It only made sense. Pierre loved him and refused to lose him. The best way to survive longer, he decided, was to learn to love him back.

He hugged himself a little before climbing to his feet and walking over to the kitchen. Some of the permanent tension in his body faded, just minutely. He missed feeling loved. This feeling was different, it was intermixed with fear and the knowledge that the love was conditional, but it was better than the unloved feeling he'd lived with the past year.

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><p><strong>November 2012<strong>

"I had a really nice time tonight Jake," Kurt spoke firmly, placing a hand gently on the twenty-year-old's chest when he leaned into kiss him. "It's just the first date, why don't we wait until we get to know each other-"

"Or you could invite me in," the blond grinned, mischief dancing in his eyes. His chest pushed forward against his hand, "I could make you see stars Kurt-"

"It's our first date," he repeated, pushing Jake a little more firmly with his hand. "I like you Jake. You seem like a nice guy but I don't sleep around-"

"Yeah Rachel may have said something about that. Warned me to be nice or whatever. I'm being nice," he stepped back a little, but not completely out of Kurt's personal space. "Look I get that maybe you're inexperienced-"

"Look Jake, I'm a virgin and I'm proud of that. I'm not going to give it up on the first date. If you like me as much as you said you do at dinner you'll give it some time," Kurt let out a sigh. He liked Jake, he did, but there was no spark and now this?

"I do really like you. That's why I want to know _all _of you," Jake laughed softly. "Come on Kurt- if you really like me you'd at least fool around with me a little. We don't have to do everything-"

"We don't _have_ to do anything and we're not going to," Kurt snapped, his patience starting to wane. "You need to accept that if you want this to go any further."

"Or maybe you're just cold and incapable of love-"

"It's the first date," he growled, his eyes flashing as Blaine's face was suddenly imaged in his brain. It nearly made him stumble and he flinched backward when Jake reached out to steady him. "Why are you talking about love on a first date? And- I'll have you know I'm perfectly capable of love. I've been in love and you know what, it ended pretty badly."

Jake let out a sigh, "I'm sorry that guy screwed you over Kurt. And look, I'm sorry I pushed, but can't we just cuddle and watch a movie or something? I want to spend more time with you. I-I'm not the guy your ex was-"

"That's the problem, you're not him," Kurt blurted softly, automatically feeling bad for the hurt on Jake's face. But honestly, cuddle? If that wasn't code for sex, than he was Lady Gaga. "Look Jake, the only guy I ever loved- he didn't screw me over. He's not my ex-boyfriend, he's my _late_ boyfriend. He died about a year ago. He wasn't perfect. He was flawed, everyone is, but he was perfect for me and I _lost_ him."

"Shit Kurt," Jake stepped back softly, finally leaving his personal space. He even looked a little ashamed of his actions. "I'm really sorry about that. Look maybe you're right- I should go. I think I should probably date someone who has a little less on their plate. You're still grieving and all-"

"You mean you want to find someone who'll sleep with you," Kurt rolled his eyes and cut off any apologies the other boy could splutter out. "No it's okay. It's happened before. I get it- well not really- but whatever floats your boat. I had a nice night mostly. Bye Jake."

"Er bye Kurt," the other boy muttered nervously before shrugging his shoulders and walking away.

Kurt stuck his key in the lock and yelled into the apartment almost immediately. "Rachel Berry I changed my mind. You are never allowed to set me up again!"

Rachel poked her head out of her and Finn's bedroom, "Bad date?"

"He got pissed I didn't want to get down and dirty with him," Kurt rolled his eyes and gave a little scoff. "Then he ran because I told him about Blaine. I'm not sad he left, but seriously everyone runs as soon as they hear-"

"That's because it's not first date conversation material," Rachel shook her head softly. "I'll admit Jake turned out to be more of an ass than I thought, but maybe don't tell potential boyfriends that your first serious boyfriend died. People don't want to hear sad things on the first date-"

"It's part of who I am. Blaine's a part of who I am and I'm not going to hide it just because it scares guys away-"

"Sometimes I think you're _trying_ to scare them away," she muttered under her breath, stopping when she saw the glare Kurt was shooting her way. "I'm just going to go back to bed. There's Ben and Jerry's in the fridge if you need it; chocolate chip cookie dough."

"Has Finn been home since you bought it?" Kurt asked pointedly. At Rachel's nod he sighed, "I'll see if there's half a spoonful left."

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><p><strong>An**: Like I said it's not my favourite chapter (I still like it though. I'm strangely proud of this story) but I hope you enjoy it anyways. Please leave me a review.


	14. Chapter 14: Don't Say Goodbye

**Summary**: Two years ago Kurt's boyfriend was kidnapped and supposedly murdered. Two years ago Blaine was ripped away and brainwashed into believing his captor loved him. It's two years later and they've been reunited, but it's not everything they imagined it would be.

**Warning**: Non-explicit mentions of non-con. There's definite violence in this chapter as well. Also mentions of suicidal thoughts (past mentions).

**A/N:**So here's another chapter for you guys. As I mentioned in the last chapter there will be no update on Tuesday due to my lovely sister coming to visit me. So you should be mad at her and not me :P. However I will update on the following Friday, so it's only a one week wait. I hope you can forgive me (and her)!

Also there's a bit of a time shift here. A few days have passed since we last saw our boys- but nothing major happened which is why in the last chapter we looked at Joey making it to New York and talking with Finchel.

Well without further ado here's the next chapter.

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><p>Chapter 14: Don't Say Goodbye<p>

September 2013

"Pierre," Blaine started in a quiet voice very early in the afternoon. The man had just eaten lunch and was usually the least unpleasant when he wasn't still tired and had just eaten. "You're going to let Kurt go right? He won't tell anyone about me, he loves me. He wouldn't risk my life. We can just move once you get the ransom. We can go somewhere else-"

Pierre glared at him, "What I do with your little boyfriend is my decision, not yours."

"Pierre, please-"

"If I want to keep him I will. If I want to let him go I will. If I want to kill him I will. I'm going to do what _I_ want to do. Your opinion doesn't matter Blaine. I don't care if he loves you. My decision is final." Pierre's eyes darkened as they flickered between the two boys. "Besides it's been awhile since I've had a virgin and it'll be so much fun to screw all that sass out of him."

Blaine saw the way Kurt's face paled at the statement. He'd be surprised if there was any colour left in his face either. "You don't need him. You have me. You- you said as long as you had me you didn't need anyone else. You- you promised-"

"I promised if you behaved I wouldn't go after your sister. I never said anything about Kurt," Pierre just let out a chuckle. "Besides you're the one who screwed up and brought him here. So it's your fault he's here in the first place."

"You told me to rob him!" Blaine exclaimed, not too loudly, although his voice did raise a little. "You told me to. I can't just not do what you tell me to-"

"Lower your voice," Pierre hissed roughly. "You don't get to yell at me Blaine. Now shut the hell up. I haven't decided what I'm going to do with him yet but if you keep pissing me off I'll use him and then I'll kill him. Then guess what- after I make you watch all of it -and I mean _all_ of it- I'll kill you and go to Lima for your replacement- Won't little Bri be so happy to see me?"

"You promised-" Blaine started again, before cutting himself off when Pierre rose from the couch. He stepped back uncomfortably, before seating himself in the kitchen chair near Kurt and lowering his head. He tried to speak again, keeping his voice soft, "Please let him go. I'll stop screwing up I promise. I'll stop pickpocketing and only rob people if that's what you want. I'll- I'll be better in bed-"

"Blaine," Kurt whispered next to him, shaking his head.

"Please Pierre I'm begging you. We can move. We'll go wherever you want. Please I love him and I know you love me- I love you too. Please, for me, let him go?" He barely raised his head during the whole spiel, aiming his voice more at the floor than the man by the couch trying to watch TV.

Pierre's head swivelled to look at him sharply. "I thought I told you to shut up?"

"I just- I love him. I don't want to see him hurt, or killed. He loves me too so he won't tell anyone about me. He knows you'd kill me if he did- if anyone found out I was still alive. Please Pierre I'm begging you."

Pierre's face twisted as he snarled, "I told you to _shut up._"

"Pierre-"

The man growled, stalking towards the closet and coming back with a fresh coil of rope and a couple scarves. He tied a knot in each of the scarves before pushing Blaine out of the chair next to Kurt and to the floor. Once the boy was out of the way he shoved the gag into Kurt's protesting mouth, before fastening it tightly.

He chucked the other scarf and the rope to the floor and gripped the handle of a knife from the block and pulled it out. He kneeled on the floor next to Blaine, "Don't you dare move or I swear to God I will gut him like a pig."

Blaine lay still on the floor, his entire body trembling as Pierre grabbed the rope and tied his hands behind his back. "Pierre, please stop. Please don't do this."

Pierre ignored him, moving to tie his ankles together next. He rolled the boy onto his back and held onto the knife. "How many times did I tell you to shut up?" He asked in an ominous tone, the knife touching down on Blaine's arm. At Blaine's silence he asked again, "How many?"

"I-I don't know." He gasped as a sharp line of pain cut into his arm as the knife slashed down.

"So basically I told you so many times that you lost count," Pierre clarified, placing the knife against his arm again, a few inches higher, "is that right?"

If someone loved you they would stop when you asked them to, that was what Kurt had shown him just a few days ago. "Pierre," he whispered, "please, stop this. I don't like this, please. It hurts."

Pierre sliced down another gash and tears burst into his eyes, "I asked you a question."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his eyes flickering to Kurt. The other boy was sobbing into his gag and pulling desperately at his ropes. He pulled at his own lightly, but they were both trapped. They were both at Pierre's mercy and it looked like he didn't have any. "Please Pierre I'm sorry. Please, _stop._"

Pierre rolled his eyes and grabbed the other scarf, before gagging him for the first time in over a year. "I think he's been a bad influence on you Blaine," he growled as he fastened the gag around the back of his head. "I think you've forgotten who's in charge around here. Is that it? Have you forgotten? Do I need to remind you?"

He shook his head desperately, tears still sliding down his face and a quick flicker to Kurt saw the other boy was crying just as hard.

Pierre placed the knife by his cheek, "I think I do." He pressed a small, sharp gash under his eye and down his cheek on the left side, only smiling as blood mingled with tears.

"You really think I love you? Are you really that stupid Blaine? No one _loves_ you. I knew you were an idiot, but this is ridiculous. I _don't_ love you. I like the sex and I like the way you look. I like it when you sob into my pillow. The part I like most about the sex; is that you _don't_. Does that really sound like someone who loves you Blaine? You're here because if you leave I will find you and I will kill you and then I'll take your pretty little sister. Actually I might not even need to do that. If you don't smarten up well Kurt's already here, isn't he?" Pierre tugged up his shirt and sliced a deep gash into his side. "I'm the one in charge here Blaine. If you run, I'll find you, just like I did last time. Don't piss me off Blaine. You don't get to have opinions; you just _do as you're told_."

Shakily Blaine nodded his head, tears still streaming down his cheeks.

Pierre carefully pulled the gag from his lips, "Who's in charge here Blaine?"

"You are," he whispered weakly, sniffling back more tears. "I'm sorry. You're in charge. You are. Please."

"That's what I thought," he flipped Blaine onto his stomach and untied his hands. "I'm leaving. I'll be back when I have the money. Don't even try to leave or the next gash goes through your throat and don't think I won't know if you do. I have eyes and ears everywhere. I have _friends_ I just don't bother introducing them to someone as worthless as you."

Blaine didn't even dare to untie his ankles until after the door slammed. Very shakily he fought to get his legs underneath him, swaying a little when he did, and pulled the gag from Kurt's face. "Are you okay?" He whispered in a small voice.

Kurt just shook his head, "You're asking me? Blaine- he just- I-" the words wouldn't come out.

Blaine looked at him, mumbling very quietly, "I guess you were right."

* * *

><p><em>April 2013<em>

Blaine passed over the small collection of wallets he'd acquired, along with the bracelet he'd swiped off an elderly woman and watched as Pierre stowed them carefully under the passenger seat of the car. With a deep breath and a swallow he asked, "I- Are we going to go back to the apartment soon?"

Pierre levelled a glare at him, before letting out a stark laugh, "I don't think so. I have a bit of a test for you today." The man pulled a knife from under the seat and held it out, "Take this."

Shakily he clasped his hand around the handle, "Wh-what am I supposed to do with this?" He asked in a quiet voice. Already his stomach was starting to sink as he let his eyes rise up to meet Pierre's. "I-I mean I-"

"There's a woman walking down the street there. She's probably a little bit older than you," Pierre gripped his shoulders and turned his body so he could see a curly haired blond striding down the street confidently, holding her purse under her arm. There was a very clear label on the purse, a logo proclaiming that the purse was Prada. He recognized it as the same logo that had been on a pair of shoes Brianna had begged their parents for.

The young women's body language and clothing screamed wealthy.

"I see her," he whispered, already knowing what was coming and dreading it.

"Now I _could_ take her back to the apartment and have my way with her, have her parents pay me a ridiculous sum and then dump her body in the port," Pierre began, whispering into his ear darkly from behind, "or you can lure her somewhere secluded and help lighten her load. That purse of hers and those earrings and necklace look mighty heavy. I'm sure you could charm her into letting you have them in exchange for not cutting her throat. Think of it as doing her a favour."

"I-" he clutched the knife before carefully sliding it into his pants and covering it with his t-shirt. He licked his lips. He _was_ kind of doing her a favour. Between being robbed and being kidnapped, raped and murdered she'd probably prefer the former to the latter. "O-okay I'll be right back then, I guess."

His body trembled a little as he walked at a fast pace to catch up to the woman and carefully jostled her just slightly. "Oh sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going," he forced a smile her way. "I- maybe I could make it up to you?"

"Is that really your best pick up?" The woman, more of a girl really, let out a small laugh as she looked him up and down. Her face was a little round, pretty in a more unnoticeable kind of way than some of the other girls he'd seen, "You're cute, I'll give you that."

"I'm out of practice," he admitted in a quiet voice, smiling again even as internally his heart was beating way too fast. "I just wanted to talk to you. I know- I know I'm probably not your usual type," he gestured to his worn clothing and faded jeans, "but I promise I'm a nice guy."

"What's your name?" She asked, walking in step with him. He made sure to keep his strides short so Pierre wouldn't lose sight of him until it was time to make his move.

"Oh um- Kurt," he grabbed the first name he could think of and blushed. Of course it would be Kurt. Kurt somehow always managed to filter into his dreams- saving him, loving him, or just remembering the times they used to have together. He bit his lip and forced the memories back into the deep recesses of his mine, "Yours?"

"Amy," she smiled brightly back at him. She looked flustered at the male attention, almost like she wasn't used to it. "I'm nineteen."

"Eighteen," he replied, telling her the truth for once. He followed that minute truth with another lie. "Would you let me buy you a coffee or lunch or something? I know this great little place. I could show you."

"I-" she chewed her lower lip, looking as if she were thinking about it, before showing off a smile that bared her teeth, "I'd love that."

"It's just this way," he mumbled nervously as he pointed towards the thin alley between two boutiques. "It's actually on the next block, but it's the nicest little bistro - I think you'd like it."

She followed him willingly, blindly naive and trusting, just like he used to be. He hated to have to scare her or threaten her. So when he stopped walking he didn't push her against a wall like he'd seen Pierre do. He didn't even pull out the knife. Instead he was straight up. "Look Amy- I need you to give me your purse and your jewellery. I really don't want to do this," his voice hoarsened as he spoke, "but I really don't have a choice. Believe me when I say this is a life or death situation for the both of us."

Her smile dropped her brown eyes widened, "Kurt what are you talking about?"

"Look just give them to me, okay? I don't want him to hurt you. Shit- I don't want to get hurt either. Just- either pretend this never happened or say I threatened you with a knife or something- just please don't mention that I was forced to do this, okay? I just-" he shook his head as tears brimmed up in his eyes, "I didn't want to scare you- or threaten you the way he wants me to- that's the only reason I'm telling you this."

She stared at him for a long moment, seemingly uncomprehending.

"Amy I'm serious. I will be killed if you don't act like I did this on my own accord, okay? Amy, can you do that for me?"

She licked her lips and her eyes brightened with her own tears. "You don't actually like me-"

"I think you're probably a very nice person-" he started, wondering why on Earth that was her biggest concern at the moment, "but honestly dating is my last concern right now- and I'm sort of gay. Just please give me what I'm asking for. I don't want to have to take it."

She shoved the purse at him and he let out a small sigh of relief as he watched her removed her diamond earrings. "Tell whoever it is you couldn't get the necklace. It belonged to my mother."

"Okay," he looked down the alley both ways, and when he saw that Pierre wasn't in sight and wasn't close nearby he pointed down the other end of the alley, "There's actually a nice bistro down that way. I've never been in- but maybe you could take your next date there. There's usually a uniformed officer near there. You could report the robbery to him- just-"

"You- knife- no one else was mentioned- got it," she looked him over, her eyes somewhat puffy before she turned and ran from the alley as if she were afraid he might actually pull out a knife at any second.

If she hadn't handed everything over so easily he would have had to.

He walked to the end of the alley and found Pierre leaning against the wall of one of the boutiques, waiting for him. A backpack was shoved his way and he discretely slipped the purse inside, along with the earrings. He lowered his voice, "She got away before I could grab the necklace."

Pierre shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes. Not particularly caring. Apparently the designer bag and its potential innards were enough to satisfy him. Blaine just shouldered the pack and walked after the man when he left the wall.

"Next time don't strike up a conversation. Wait until they go somewhere secluded and surprise them from behind. You don't want anyone to see your face. They'll give a likeness to the cops and then we might have some trouble," Pierre growled at him softly as they walked.

"You told me to-"

"Don't argue." The words were snapped back and he winced back just slightly.

"Okay." He fell silent immediately. Instead he let his mind wander back to Kurt. He had to wonder if Kurt ever did make it into Julliard or ended up attending another New York preforming arts school.

He wondered if the other boy had found love again- if he was still dating the football player he'd saw in high school- or if he'd found someone else. He wondered if Kurt's new man was anything like him.

The thought of Kurt with another guy made his heart break up like slivers of glass cracking off something that had already been broken. Still- he hoped Kurt was doing okay without him. He just hoped that he hadn't broken his promise- that he hadn't said goodbye.

* * *

><p><strong>April 2013<strong>

"One year done, let's celebrate," the other boy's shaggy blond hair looked even crazier than usual as he twirled Kurt around. "You, me, Finn and Rachel need to go _out_ tonight."

"Bradley would you not twirl me in the middle of the street," Kurt blushed and shook his head as he disentangled their hands. "I'll ask Finn and Rachel, but honestly you and I both know that seeing those two drunk is not the best idea. Remember what happened the last time?"

"That's one time-" Brad shook his head and laughed. "Besides didn't you tell me that they were both completely embarrassed about it later?"

"It still doesn't change the fact that I'm scarred for life," Kurt gave a dramatic shudder as he walked down the sidewalk at the other boy's side. "I'm sorry but you can't tell me you _liked_ seeing my brother practically rip off my best friend's shirt in front of us. Trust me when I say that's more Rachel Berry than I ever wanted to see."

Bradley laughed, leaning over to lightly peck him on the cheek. "You have to admit it was funny."

"That's it, I'm breaking up with you," Kurt gave an overdramatic huff as he started walking a little faster.

"You've said that nearly every day for the last three months," Bradley shrugged his shoulders with a grin, "And that's about how long we've been dating. I'm pretty sure I don't believe you."

Kurt smiled back at him lightly, before stopping in his tracks as the smile slipped from his face.

"Kurt?"

Kurt wasn't paying attention. His eyes were on a head of dark curly hair across the street walking with a blonde girl before they both disappeared into an alleyway.

"Kurt you look like you've seen a ghost-"

Kurt turned his eyes on Brad's, "I thought-" he shook his head, "it couldn't be. He-He's dead and that guy was with a girl and-"

"What's going on?" Brad's hand closed over his gently. "Kurt, who did you think you saw?"

"I need to sit down," Kurt whispered shakily, still shaking his head back and forth in shock. His entire face had turned a stunningly pale shade of white. His eyes wouldn't even focus until Brad was pushing him gently into a park bench and kneeling in front of him.

"Kurt?"

"I thought I saw him," he whispered in a small voice. "I thought I saw Blaine-"

Bradley frowned at him. "Who's Blaine? I mean- the name sounds familiar. I think Finn mentioned him once- but it was only in passing-"

"He was-" Kurt shook his head tiredly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but Rachel told me I should wait- that it scared guys away and I- I don't know-"

"Kurt I love you, you're not going to scare me away," Brad's words were blurted and Kurt looked at him, eyes wide and stunned. "I didn't mean to say it so soon- or- or like that but I do. I love you Kurt." A blushing smile grew over the blonde's face, "I love you."

"I- th-thank you?" He tried, unable to let the words fall from his lips. "I'd like to say it back, but Brad I can't. I'm not ready. I-I wouldn't mean them- not yet anyway."

"It's okay," Brad rubbed over his hand, "you don't have to say it until you mean it. Why- why don't you tell me about this Blaine guy? He sounds kind of important to you-"

"He was my first boyfriend- first and only guy I've ever loved to date," Kurt murmured in a quiet voice.

"The picture," Brad's voice rose slightly as he remembered. "I asked Finn about it. He said that boy in the picture on your nightstand was Blaine- but he wouldn't tell me anything else. He said to ask you, but I figured you'd tell me when you were ready-"

"He died," Kurt whispered suddenly, swallowing thickly. "He was killed and I- I still love him. He still has so much of my heart Brad. I just-"

Brad's weight settled beside him on the bench and an arm wrapped around him, pulling him close. "It's okay. I don't mind. Why- why don't you tell me what happened? I promise you won't scare me away."

"He was kidnapped," Kurt murmured suddenly, resting against the other boy. "This man- they never caught him- he took him when he was walking home from work. He held him for ransom and- and something went wrong during the ransom drop and Blaine- he was killed."

"I'm sorry babe," Brad whispered into his hair gently, pressing a light kiss there. "I'm sorry you had to go through that Kurt. I wish I could help you somehow-"

"You do," Kurt murmured quietly, "by just doing this. This helps."

"You know the moment you walked into History of Theatre I thought to myself- that has to be the handsomest guy on the face of the earth," Brad told him in a soft voice, changing the subject quietly and kissed his head again. "I- Kurt I know you don't love me now and – it's okay that you still love Blaine. I understand-"

"I said I'd never say goodbye to him-"

"I don't want you to," Brad held him tightly as he pressed his head into Brad's shoulder and started to cry very softly. "You don't have to say goodbye to him Kurt. "

"I thought for sure it was him- but it couldn't have been-"

"Shh," Brad soothed, his hand smoothing comfortingly over his hair. "It's okay."

"I don't want to say goodbye-"

"Don't," Brad told him seriously. "Don't say goodbye if you don't want to."

"I want to be able to love you Brad. You're so kind and sweet and good-looking. I just- how am I supposed to love you if I can't let him go?" Kurt pulled back from the embrace, shaking his head. He was lost- utterly lost. It was like his heart was being pulled in two different directions.

"Keep Blaine in your heart," Brad's voice was firm and gentle at the same time. "Keep him there, just try to make some room there for me too, okay?"

"I'll try," Kurt let out a long sigh, "but that's all I can give you."

"That's all I'm asking for, Kurt. I love you and I'll still be here whenever you're willing to say it back."

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: So for that one person who asked in a review: "Who the hell is Bradley?" Now you know, but don't worry. This IS a Klaine story. Also this chapter contained the last flashback. From now on the dates either signal a change in scene or possibly a jump in time. I'll see you guys next Friday. After that the updates should go back to normal... at least until exam period starts.


	15. Chapter 15: I'm Sorry

**Summary**: Two years ago Kurt's boyfriend was kidnapped and supposedly murdered. Two years ago Blaine was ripped away and brainwashed into believing his captor loved him. It's two years later and they've been reunited, but it's not everything they imagined it would be.

**Warning**: Non-explicit mentions of non-con. Some violence as well. Also mentions of suicidal thoughts (past mentions).

**A/N**: So I'm back, sick as a dog since I've been running a fever for the last four days, but I'm back. Anyways here's chapter 15. I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

><p>Chapter 15: I'm Sorry<p>

September 2013

Kurt looked at Blaine and bit his lip. The other boy was wincing each time he dabbed the wet paper towel onto the gash on his face. "You know," Kurt began carefully, "if you untied me I could help. I promise I won't try to run or anything. I-" he paused softly, "I wouldn't risk you getting hurt again."

"Pierre will get mad," Blaine murmured back, letting out a soft hiss of pain as he tried to wipe off some more of the drying blood.

"You can tie me up before he gets back," Kurt pressed in a gentle tone. "Just long enough so I can clean you up, okay?"

"He'll know," Blaine shook his head.

"But I'll still be here," Kurt insisted, leaning forward in the chair as much as he could with the ropes wrapped around his torso. "He'll realize that I won't run or fight or anything as long as he has you." He paused, "Don't you trust in that? Don't you trust me?"

Blaine visibly winced at that; although he was unsure if it was because of the cuts and bruises on his face or the hurt in Kurt's voice. He slowly walked over to Kurt and placed his hands gently on the ropes. "Promise me you won't run or try anything? Promise me you won't do anything that will get you hurt?"

Kurt looked directly into Blaine's hazel eyes that were glossy and haunted, "I promise you Blaine."

Blaine's fingers fumbled at the knots and Kurt rubbed his wrists tenderly once he was free. He smiled weakly at Blaine and took his hand gently. "Do you have a first aid kit Blaine?"

Blaine nodded, "I didn't even think of that." He moved swiftly towards the closet and removed a small white case with red lettering.

Kurt took it from him almost immediately and waved his hand toward the couch, "Sit and let me take care of you, okay? I imagine you haven't been getting much of that in the past two years, have you?"

Blaine sat and carefully shook his head, "No, not really. When- when I get hurt-"

"You mean when he hurts you," Kurt cut in a terse voice.

"When he hurts me," Blaine agreed in a small voice, "I take care of myself." He paused before adding softly, "Mostly he tells me to suck it up- and- and if I don't it just gets worse."

Kurt opened the case and removed a few antiseptic wipes, before opening one and carefully wiping the dried blood off Blaine's cheek. He tried to keep his ministrations gentle with slow movements and little pressure, but Blaine still let out a few small whimpers of pain. He grimaced at the thought of causing him pain and whispered, "That doesn't sound like someone who loves you. Actually I'm pretty sure he just told you he doesn't."

"He's never really claimed to, but- I- he was just angry then. He didn't really mean it," Blaine murmured, biting back another sound of pain as the wipe touched a particularly tender area.

"Wait a second," Kurt's eyes raised from the gash he was cleaning and locked on Blaine. He hand paused mid-movement as his eyebrows furrowed, "You even said I was right and now you're telling me he's never once said that he loves you?"

"I was just upset about- about what he said and- well okay, no, he hasn't," Blaine spoke quietly, "but he says he's fond of me. He just- he's not the kind of guy who says he loves someone. But Kurt I can tell. If he didn't love me he would have killed me a long time ago. He loves me Kurt. He really does."

Kurt shook his head and started gently applying butterfly bandages to close up the now cleaned gash. "He doesn't love you Blaine. He told you as much. He uses you. He hasn't killed you because you're useful to him. He keeps you here because he's more likely to get caught if he goes around raping people at random. With you here he has constant access all the while knowing that you being here and terrified means he won't get caught. He figures no one will even be looking for you since everyone thinks you're dead. Don't you get it Blaine? He doesn't love you; you're convenient to him." He moved to start cleaning one of the cuts on Blaine's arm.

Tears brimmed up in Blaine's eyes only to slip down his cheeks. "You're wrong," he whispered desperately. "He loves me."

Kurt trailed a caressing hand down Blaine's cheek. He'd honestly been expecting Blaine to get angrier at him for saying all that, but he supposed it had been a long time since Blaine had been allowed to really be angry. "I think I figured out why you insist on telling yourself that." He shook his head softly. "You're trying to rationalize his actions and you've been living in constant fear. It makes you just that tiniest bit less afraid if you think he loves you. You think that if you just do everything right then that supposed 'love' will keep you safe, even though it doesn't. It probably doesn't help that he's been your only constant for the past two years- the only person you've been in contact with. I think I get why you think he loves you, but Blaine, you're wrong." He started bandaging the long cut on the other boy's side when Blaine lifted his shirt a couple inches just enough to reveal the bloody gash that ran horizontally over his hip.

"Kurt-"

"What was he talking about earlier?" Kurt asked quietly, a bit of a frown on his face. "He-he mentioned Brianna and you said something about a promise?"

"Oh," Blaine lowered his eyes a little. "He- I- I had some trouble adjusting, I guess."

Kurt gave him an incredulous look, "Trouble adjusting? Are you serious?"

"Okay," Blaine sighed out softly. "I got sick of having no control. I got tired of him taking me to bed and not having a choice in the matter. I got sick of life Kurt. I tried to kill myself and he caught me-" and suddenly his words were cut off as Kurt hugged him to his chest.

"God Blaine," Kurt whispered, clasping him tightly. "I-I-"

"It was my birthday and I- I hadn't taught myself to love him yet and I was just so tired. I knew- I knew there was no way I could get out without him finding me so- so I stole some of the rope and…" he trailed off for a moment, letting Kurt's arms tighten around him. It aggravated some of his bruises, but at the same time it seemed to ground him enough that he could continue speaking, "He found me though and- he threatened- told me that if he ever lost me- if I killed myself or screwed up badly enough that he felt he had to kill me-" he shook his head.

"Blaine-"

"He said he liked the way I looked and that- that if he needed a replacement they would have to look like me and he went on about how he missed girls-" Blaine felt the tears sliding down his cheeks helplessly, "I knew who he was talking about. Don't you see Kurt? I can't mess up. I can't piss him off. I have to protect her. I have to protect you. You heard him. You heard what he said."

"I heard him," Kurt whispered, his hand rubbing little circles into Blaine's back, "but Blaine- you know I'd do anything for you. He doesn't love you, but I do. You have to trust me. If we leave and go straight to the police we'll be okay. They'll find him."

"I- he loves me and he will find us. Or- or he'll just go for Bri-"

"We could warn your parents-"

"I can't leave Kurt. I can't. He found me before. He always finds me. I even got lost on accident once and he found me. I can't go Kurt. I can't. You heard him- he has friends. He'll find me and he'll be so angry. He loves me Kurt- he does- so much that the thought of losing me makes him crazy-"

"He doesn't love you-"

"Kurt, stop it," Blaine shook his head. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. It doesn't even matter because even if you're right all it means is he's more likely to kill one or both of us."

Kurt gritted his teeth and nodded. He finished fixing Blaine's side and carefully closed the first aid kit. "I guess you're right about that." He rose to his feet, "I'll put this away for you."

He walked over to the closet and put it back on the empty space on the shelf before moving to the kitchen and picking up the rope. He walked towards the couch and placed it in Blaine's hands. "You better at least tie my hands or something."

"Maybe just another half hour," Blaine murmured, his hand seeking out Kurt's and grasping it gently. "Just long enough to watch Friends or How I Met Your Mother or something?"

Kurt sank into the couch with a grimace. He'd really rather grab Blaine's hand and run to find the nearest police officer or station, but he knew it would be next to impossible to get Blaine to run away. If he left and Blaine stayed and Pierre came back before he could get the police there, he shuddered at the thought, knowing without a doubt that it would mean Blaine would killed; or at the very least horribly beaten.

He curled his body and leaned into Blaine. There was no way he could let that happen, so he opened his mouth and spoke softly, "I like that idea."

"You know he was wrong right? There are people who love you," Kurt murmured as he settled and cuddled into him. "Your mom loves you. Your dad loves you. Your brother and sister both love you. _I_ love you. You are loved Blaine. You just are."

Blaine didn't answer; instead he wrapped his arms around him and relished the warmth of another body pressed so gently close to his. It only took him minutes for his breath to even out and his head to drop softly on top of where Kurt's was leaning into his shoulder.

* * *

><p>September 2013<p>

Finn nervously approached the man wearing a wool baklava over his face and leaning against the wall of the alley. Only earlier today his step-father had called him and explained that they'd been given the instructions for the drop off. "Um- are you- I'm here for my brother."

"Your brother Kurt?" The man asked, tamping the cigarette out against the brick wall before slipping it into his breast pocket.

He swallowed, "Yeah. I-uh I got what you wanted." He held out the duffel bag shakily, "I- can I talk to Kurt, please? I'd- I'd like to know he's alright."

"Kid I learned years ago that bringing the hostage to the exchange is a bad idea. It's just another distraction. That's something I don't particularly need to deal with. I'll give you your precious brother's location when I'm on my way with that duffel bag you got there."

"Could you maybe call-"

"Don't push me boy, just give me the money," the man snapped roughly, holding his hand out.

Finn took a few quick steps and held out the duffel bag at arm's reach, waiting for the man to take it. A hand circled his wrist, pulling him forward as the man's body twisted behind him and suddenly there was something round and smooth pressed against his temple, "Don't you think you ought to ask before you come at me like that Dumbass?"

"Dude I'm sorry. You wanted the money. I was just giving it to you," he let out very quickly. "I wasn't trying anything. I just want my brother back, that's all, man. You take the money, it's yours. You go and you can call me or something and I'll pick up Kurt wherever you want- or I don't know drop him off somewhere and have him call me- just- dude- please don't shoot. I wasn't trying anything."

"Drop the duffel bag," the man told him very softly.

He let it fall from his hands and the gun lifted away from his temple and the grip let go of his wrist. Almost immediately he was stumbling backward and away.

"Give me your phone number," the man smirked at him through the woollen mask. "So I can call you to pick up your brother later."

"Oh- uh 212-647-6104," he blurted out, taking a few more steps back. "Wh-when can I expect your call?"

"Oh early tomorrow morning should be fine-" the man threw the duffel bag into the car before climbing in himself. Through the window he smiled again at Finn, "I'll let you know then where you can pick up your precious faggot brother's body."

His jaw dropped and despite the gun and the fear he lunged at the car as it started driving down the opposite end of the alley and away from him. Even as he chased it he could hear the asshole's laughter out the car window as his brain buzzed angrily with frustration.

Huffing he pulled out Rachel's phone and pressed it to his ear. "Joey," he breathed out roughly. "Joey- he-"

"I heard Finn," the other boy's voice was soft. "I'm sorry."

"No, just no," tears were streaming hot down his cheeks as he leaned heavily against the wall. "I listened to you! I did everything he said like you told me to and he-he- Goddamn it Joey!"

"Finn I- it honestly seemed like the best option- after what happened to Blaine-"

"Best option? Kurt's dead! How is that the best option?"

"We don't know that," Joey cut in roughly. "Look there's still a chance he hasn't done anything to him yet. He needed Kurt alive at least until he got his hands on that money. If we find him soon- Kurt might be okay-"

"How do you suppose we do that?" Finn asked, his voice dropping down to normal volume, although it was very scratchy.

"I think it's about time we had a word with NYPD," Joey's said tiredly. "If that man's not going to follow his own rules then neither are we."

* * *

><p>September 2013<p>

The sound of a door opening jerked Blaine awake and his heart immediately started pounding uncomfortably in his chest. He stood up uncertainly, jostling Kurt into wakefulness too. His eyes flickered from Kurt to Pierre. One looked positively terrified and the other, livid.

"Sit," Pierre's voice was hard and his eyes darkened at the sight of the two young men.

Blaine sank back into the couch obediently, his hands shaking as he reached over with one of them to clutch Kurt's hand. "I'm sorry," he whispered to Kurt in a barely audible voice. He looked over to where Pierre had grabbed two of the wooden kitchen chairs and set them side by side. He spoke a little louder, this time aiming his voice at Pierre, "I'm sorry."

"Shut up," was the response and Blaine clamped his mouth shut. There was a short pause before another sharp order was snapped their way, "Both of you here, now."

Blaine stood immediately and pulled Kurt up by the hand. They both shuffled over, Kurt hesitating slightly and Blaine knowing better than to even try.

He kept Kurt's hand clutched in his and stood trembling in front of Pierre and kept his head bowed.

A hand wrapped around his wrist and he tensed but didn't move, even as it yanked his hand from Kurt's. The hand on his wrist wrenched him in front of one of the chairs roughly and pushed him into it.

Then Pierre's hands were grasping Kurt and his fingers clenched the seat underneath him as he dared to speak, "Please don't hurt him. It's not his fault. It's mine-"

"I believe I told you to shut up," Pierre growled as he shoved Kurt into the chair next to him. "Keep your mouth shut unless I tell you to speak, is that understood?" There was a pause as he paced in front of the two of them, "I've been entirely too lenient on you."

He moved away from them for a moment, storming over to the couch and picking up the rope that had been discarded beside it. He stalked back over and levelled a look at Blaine. "Did I say you could do this?"

Blaine shook his head and whispered, "No."

"Then explain to me why he's sitting there untied. Explain to me how you could fall asleep when he's completely able of running away and you're supposed to be watching him."

Blaine swallowed thickly and opened his mouth softly, "He promised he wouldn't run away. He just wanted to fix me up a little bit." He looked up briefly but at the hard glare aimed his way he dropped his gaze again. "I was having trouble doing it myself."

"And why didn't you tie him back up once he was done?" Pierre asked; his voice thick with a dangerous edge.

"He said he wouldn't run," Blaine answered softly. "He said he could never run, because he knows you'd get mad at me for it. He doesn't want me to get hurt. I thought- I thought that it wouldn't matter because he wouldn't leave. He wouldn't and he didn't. Pierre, please. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"No you certainly weren't!" The words were accompanied by a dizzying backhand that knocked him into Kurt, who kept him from falling. Through the pain he felt Kurt's gentle fingers making sure that the blow hadn't reopened the gash on his face.

He sat up straight again, keeping his head lowered and noticed Kurt's hand dropped back into his lap softly.

"You," Pierre's attention shifted to Kurt and the young man visibly winced under his gaze, "Hands, now."

Kurt's whole body trembled as he extended his arms obediently, wrists touching together. He winced as the thin, green rope bit into his wrists as it was wound tightly around them. Almost immediately as the ends were knotted he could feel the tingling sensation of his circulation to his hands being cut off.

He lowered his hands back into his lap, not complaining at how agonizingly tightly he was bound. He simply clenched his teeth and lowered his head submissively, feeling the heat of the rage radiating off the man's body.

A hand grasped his hair and yanked back, forcing his widening eyes to look up at Pierre. "Now, you- don't think you're off the hook either. I hadn't had any trouble with him in a long time until you showed up. I'm starting to think you're more trouble than you're worth."

"Please," he started shakily, "I talked him into it, but- I won't anymore. I'll just," his eyes darted to look down for a moment, "stay in my chair quietly until you let me go, or-or decide what to do with me. I won't cause any trouble. I promise."

Pierre seemed to mull it over and nodded, "That's right. You'll stay right there in that chair day and night." His eyes shifted over to Blaine for a moment, "and you will too whenever I'm sleeping, gone or out for the day until I'm certain I can trust you again."

Blaine nodded his head, not daring to look up as he said softly, "Okay."

Pierre kept his hand in Kurt's hair, holding his head back in what was obviously an uncomfortable position. He looked at the trembling twenty year old and then over to the slightly younger Blaine and a smile grew slowly over his face.

He dealt a vicious backhand, his smile growing when the young man gasped sharply in pain and squeezed his eyes shut. His hand dropped from Kurt's hair, allowed his head to fall forward at the sudden lack of support.

"I need some proof that you're still loyal to me Blainey," Pierre told the boy in a dark voice as he paced in front of the two boys sitting side by side in the two kitchen chairs. "Do you understand?"

"You know I'd never leave you," Blaine said in a quiet whisper, keeping his eyes lowered. "I-I only untied him because he promised not to run away and he didn't. Pierre he's still here. He didn't run."

Pierre raised an eyebrow slightly as his eyes wandered to Kurt whose head was bent downward, looking at his hands which were still clasped in his lap and bound together. The captive was obviously terrified and Blaine spoke the truth, the boy hadn't tried to run. "He is still here and that does mean something." He reached down and tilted Kurt's head up with a hand on his chin to survey his pale, bruised face again. "That means you still get to live."

Kurt fought not to pull his head back from the hand and instead let his mouth form thickly around the words, "Th-thank you."

Pierre yanked his hand away, leaving both boys still staring at him in fear. "Don't thank me kid." He turned to Blaine, "Hit him."

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><p><strong>AN**: Please leave me a review. Who knows, maybe it'll speed up my recovery.


	16. Chapter 16: I'm Not Easy

**Summary**: Two years ago Kurt's boyfriend was kidnapped and supposedly murdered. Two years ago Blaine was ripped away and brainwashed into believing his captor loved him. Its two years later and they've been reunited, but it's not everything they imagined it would be.

**Warning**: Non-explicit mentions of non-con. Some violence as well. Also mentions of suicidal thoughts (past mentions).

**A/N**: Well I didn't die. I spent a lot on Tylenol and didn't get to leave my apartment too much for a week, but I'm feeling much better now. I just have a bit of remnant coughing. Apparently I'm a delicate flower :P. In any case this is chapter 16. It's the moment you've all been waiting for! I hope you enjoy the chapter, especially since it's chalk full off angst and excitement. At least I like to think it is!

I apologize in advance for any errors. I always edit but I always tend to miss _something._ Anyways, enjoy!

* * *

><p>Chapter 16: I'm Not Easy<p>

September 2013

"What?" Blaine swallowed thickly, his eyes widening. His body was simply refusing to move from his stiff position in the chair. "No, I can't do that."

"It's hard to trust you when you won't obey me Blainey," Pierre shrugged softly. "And if I don't trust you I have to kill him, because really if I can't trust you then how do I know you won't run off with him?"

"You- you said you were going to tie us both up when you leave," Blaine bit his lip and wrung his hands. "We won't even have the option- and- and you know even if I did that I wouldn't take it." There was a pause. "Besides, didn't- didn't you get the ransom?"

"Do as I say," Pierre growled dangerously, his hand reaching for the knife block and pulling out a long serrated blade. He tapped the flat of the blade against Kurt's temple, "Or I will kill him."

Blaine stood shakily, facing Kurt. He mouthed the words 'I'm sorry' as he reached forward to grab him by the arm and pull him to his feet. He could only hope that maybe one day Kurt would forgive him for this. He had to close his eyes for a moment before he brought his hand back and slapped his open palm across Kurt's cheek.

Kurt's head snapped to the side at the blow, before his hands reached to cover his cheek. It was both stinging from the blow and aching from the contact with his bruises. His lower lip trembled, but he didn't speak.

"No, no, that's pathetic," Pierre rolled his eyes and pushed Blaine backward, before sending a ruthless backhand across the side of Kurt's head so hard that he dropped to his hands and knees, pitching forward when he couldn't hold himself up on his bound hands. "That's how you hit someone Blaine." His hand curled into Kurt's hair and another into his shirt, pulling him back to his feet, "Now it's your turn."

"Blaine, it's okay," Kurt whispered at him, his eyes raising up slowly to lock on his. "No matter what he makes you do I'll still love you. Just... listen to him."

Blaine hesitated until Pierre made to strike again and repeated the action, though not quite as hard, but despite that, this time when Kurt fell he fell completely to the ground, his eyes staring up at them blearily. Somehow even though he was the one doing the hitting, it was him fighting the urge to let tears stream down his face.

Seeing Kurt in pain and knowing he was the cause of it was more agonizing that anything else Pierre had done to him and the other man was positively enjoying it. He could hear it in the quiet laughter that kept escaping the man's lips everytime he was forced to strike Kurt.

There was no love in that man. It was obvious that Pierre was simply incapable of feeling it. He had no idea how he'd allowed himself to get so _deluded_. Now he was in so deep and the fear and distinct knowledge that the man would have no qualms in killing them both made him stay; made him listen. It was all so wrong. Hitting Kurt felt like someone was reaching down his throat and gripping his heart before yanking it out of his chest.

"Kick him," Pierre gave a demonstration that made Kurt moan and curl inward on himself.

"He's barely conscious," Blaine argued in a choked voice. "They paid you. We're not supposed to hurt him if they pay you on time. Please Pierre-"

"It's me or you," Pierre told him with a shrug, giving Kurt another swift blow to the ribs and twirling the knife between his fingers. "Somehow I think you'll be a little gentler than I would be, don't you?"

He bit down on his lips and gave Kurt a light kick that was much more like a nudge than anything. Pierre glared at him and he forced himself to kick the other boy slightly harder, a few silent tears falling when it elicited a pained groan from the form below him.

It was obvious to him now. The only thing Pierre loved was the sick, twisted pleasure he got from causing people pain; from causing _him_ pain in particular. Somewhere deep down he'd always known it was true.

"You really are pathetic, aren't you?" Pierre growled, bringing a foot back to deliver a hard kick against the boy curled up on the floor. There was a long moment of silence as Pierre nudged the now mostly limp boy onto his back with one foot. A small smile grew on his face. "Bring him to my room."

Blaine shook his head, clenching and unclenching his fists nervously, trying to stand firm against the man who'd terrorized him for the past two years. He hadn't been lying when he said he was too scared to leave and that he'd once felt a sort of attachment to Pierre, but there were lines he just could not cross. He was scared, but between fear for his own safety and Kurt's, he'd picked Kurt every single time. "No. I won't let you do that to him, not that."

Pierre's brows furrowed, "No? See Blaine, now I really don't trust you. You don't get to say no to me, remember?"

"Well- well," he stuttered out difficultly, "I-I'm saying it. I'm s-saying n-no. That- that's too much. Not him." Blaine stiffened; bracing his body for the beating he knew was coming. No amount of bracing ever really prepared him. The closed fisted blow that connected harshly with his cheek sent him stumbling backward. The next made him trip over the barely conscious boy curled up on the floor.

He stayed down. He knew from experience that the best thing to do was always just curl up and take whatever Pierre decided to dish out. Any movement was considered struggle and always just served to make the other man angrier.

A hand grabbed him by the back of his collar and pulled him back up before he was backed up against the wall of the apartment. Pierre pressed his hands on the wall on either side of his head and growled, "You've been acting rather naughty lately Blainey."

Blaine swallowed the thick lump in his throat and licked his lips as Pierre brought his face closer to his, "I'm sorry."

"Are you really?" Pierre asked darkly, his breath washing over the boy's face as his body pressed against Blaine's tightly. The hand holding the knife moved to press it against his throat.

Blaine did something then that he hadn't done in over a year. He pressed his hands against Pierre's chest and pushed back. He didn't want the man touching him. He never did, but he'd fallen into the pattern of going the path of least resistance. Those days were over now. The resistance was weak, but it was still resistance; something he hadn't been able to even think of in a long time. Somehow between the constant reassurances and gentle touches and just his mere presence, Kurt had given that back it him. It was almost like he'd won a battle in his own mind, except his victory was short lived as a smile grew on Pierre's face.

"I didn't think so. I guess I'd better teach you a lesson then," Pierre dug a hand into Blaine's curls and pulled him hard away from the wall, ignoring the small gasps that came with the obviously painful yanks. He dragged the boy towards his bedroom, shoving him inside.

It was only when the door slammed that Kurt ventured to uncurl his body. Tears had collected in the corners of his eyes, but it was only half due to the pain radiating through his body. The rest was from the sounds of soft pleas and muffled struggles coming from the other room. He could distinctly hear the thud of one person, probably Pierre, striking another.

"No, no, no," came softly through the door and he found his face had gotten wet almost without him noticing. "Stop. Stop. I said stop!"

Somehow he'd managed to at least partially break the hold Pierre had over Blaine, but it was only serving to hurt him more.

Blaine would never be able to confuse what was happening to him now as something consensual. He assumed he never had- but he could still tell that this was worse. Blaine was fighting it for once and Pierre was forcing it as always.

He bit back a groan as he moved, his hands reaching for the kitchen chair for support as he pulled himself into a standing position. Carefully he let his hands close over one of the disposable cell phones Blaine had brought to the apartment.

With a thick swallow he turned it on and dialled nine-one-one. "Please," he whispered softly into the phone, his voice hoarse. "Help me. I don't know where I am. I-I've been kidnapped and he-he's raping him and-" he let out a groan of pain, "Please send help."

"Sir," he heard the operator's voice soften, "I need you to stay calm. I'm tracing the number now. Help is on its way."

"Thank God," he let out in a whisper, despite that he didn't actually believe in said deity.

"Sir, sir, I need you to stay on the line," the operator, a woman, told him gently. "What's your name, sir?"

"Kurt," he breathed out, trying to block out the noises coming from the bedroom. "Kurt Hummel." He fell to his knees and slid to the floor, curling around himself as he clutched the phone, "Please hurry."

"They're on their way Kurt," the operator reassured him in a soft voice, before asking him, "Can you get somewhere safe?"

"Don't think so," he mumbled painfully, "Hurt's to move. Hands are tied."

He heard movements from in the room and Blaine's voice crying out hoarsely, "Please. I'll be good. Stop, don't, please," despite how the door muffled it. "No, no, no don't please. Don't hurt him-"

"Shut up!"

He flipped the phone shut as he heard footsteps and forced himself to return the phone to its place on the table before curling back up on the floor.

It wasn't a moment too soon as the door opened and Pierre stepped out of the room with a satisfied smirk on his face and his pants unbuttoned. His foot immediately went to push Kurt over onto his back and he let out a chuckle as he smirked down at him, "Like what you heard?"

Kurt growled weakly, "You're a monster."

Pierre reached down with both hands; hauling him up by his shirt to his feet, that dark smirk never leaving his face for a moment as he pushed his face in close to Kurt's. "You ain't seen anything yet."

He leaned back slightly, but the grip holding him kept him close. He swallowed thickly as his heard pounded in his chest, "So what now?"

The question just made Pierre smile even wider, a malicious glint in his eyes. The man licked his lips in predatory way as before he started dragging Kurt towards the room he'd just exited.

He fought like he never had before even though each movement sent screams of pain through his body. If there was one thing he wanted more than anything in the world, it was to never have to be in that room. It was to never experience the kind of pain that Blaine had no doubt experienced many times before; the pain Blaine had just experienced moments before.

He pounded on him with his bound fists and kicked at Pierre's shins as he was dragged down the hall. The man just laughed at him and slammed him hard up against the wall, striking the breath from his body with a burst of pain. "You really think fighting will help?" Pierre laughed at him mirthlessly, "Go ahead. Fight all you want kid."

He didn't need any extra encouragement as he was pulled through the doorway of the room. He leaned his head down and bit down hard on one of the man's wrists, hoping to draw blood.

"You little bitch!" Pierre threw him against the wall of the bedroom and he barely had time to throw his hands out in front of him to brace himself for the contact.

He turned, keeping his back against the wall despite the pains shooting through several different parts of his body. Instead he took a look around the room and searched for Blaine.

He gasped at what he saw, falling still in shock. Blaine's hands were tied together in front of him to the rails at the foot of the bed and he was kneeling on the floor, staring at Kurt with wide, hurt eyes. It wasn't that that had made him gasp; it was the bruises and handprints that were pressed in several places over his chest and arms like large splotches of purple paint, disappearing under the pair of sweatpants he was wearing. Small circular purple dabs that looked suspiciously like fingerprints lined his hips and the bandage looked almost entirely red and ripped to shreds. Similar dark, hand-shaped bruises were forming at the reddened skin around his neck. There was also a dark bruise blossoming over the other boy's chin as blood dripped from his lip and down it.

"Blaine?" He asked, his breath catching in his throat, "Are you okay?"

The half-naked boy shook his head, ducking it down so the shaggy curls covered his face.

Hands grabbed him by his collar and threw him down onto the bed before he could get his mouth around the words of encouragement he wanted to give to Blaine. A sudden weight was straddling him and he pushed back as hands started fiddling with the buttons of his shirt.

"No Pierre, stop it!" He could hear Blaine crying from the foot of the bed and the bedframe even shook slightly as the other boy desperately pulled at the ropes binding him.

A hand snapped against his face, sending a radiating pain through him and he stilled for a moment, dazed by the blow and the ones from before. He was surprised when Pierre started untying the knots binding his wrists together.

It all became terrifyingly clear when his hands were pulled down to either side of him and pinned painfully under Pierre's knees.

"No, please Pierre please-"

He wasn't sure how Blaine could find the strength to continue pleading for him. As it was he couldn't form a single word, his body instead focussing on physically trying to struggle out of Pierre's grip.

"Goddamnit, just stop!"

The hands were attacking his shirt again and his body bucked desperately, trying to get his wrists out from where they were pinned heavily; trying to get his body out from under the restricting weight that was threatening him.

It was then that the sirens started wailing through the air and Pierre's growl of frustration sent made him go limp with relief.

He was almost surprised when Pierre flipped him over onto his stomach roughly and his heart sank for a moment. What if Pierre decided to finish with one last hideous crime? It was enough to make his stomach twist painfully.

His hands were grabbed and bound quickly behind his back and when he was yanked up off the bed he realized with relief that that wasn't Pierre's actual plan.

He was shoved against the wall and ordered, "Stay there," as Pierre grabbed his gun from his nightstand and untied the rope that bound Blaine to the foot of the bed, although leaving the other boy's hands bound in front of him.

Blaine was tugged forward, whimpers escaping him as Pierre grabbed Kurt and ushered them both back into the den area of the apartment. "Damn it!" He growled when the sirens grew louder and the actual sounds of the vehicles pulling into the parking lot of apartment building were heard.

He looked between the two boys, "Looks like I got to get rid of one of you." His eyes shot between Blaine and Kurt quickly, apparently pondering that question.

The wall gave off a thud as Blaine was pushed back into it and Kurt winced in fear as Pierre forced him to his knees and pressed the gun to his temple. "Sorry kid. You're feisty and I like that, but honestly Blaine knows his place. He's not going to run. He's _easy_, so I gotta choose him."

Kurt closed his eyes, feeling the coldness of the metal as it dug into his skin and waited for the pain that would obliterate him. He only hoped it was quick and that the police would save Blaine the way they weren't able to save him.

He opened his eyes and looked to Blaine for a quick moment, seeing the boy staring wide eyed at the scene and injected as much emotion and fervour into his last words as he possibly could, "I love you Blaine." The moment he said it something in Blaine's eyes snapped.

The other boy shot forward with his head down, barrelling towards Pierre and tackling into him before the man could even react.

A muzzle flash temporarily blinded him as he heard the blast of the gun next to his ear, making his ears ring. Despite that everything he heard was weirdly muffled when he opened his eyes again he could see Blaine struggling with Pierre for the gun with his bound hands.

His mouth dropped open in shock as Blaine managed to rip the weapon from Pierre's hands. He watched as Blaine took a few steps back, aiming the gun at Pierre with shaking hands. "No," Blaine told Pierre in a hoarse voice, "I said no. I always said no and you didn't care. You lied to me! You- you never loved me."

"Of course I love you. I was just mad before," Pierre's voice was soft and coaxing, "Give me the gun baby and we'll run away together. I can be nice. I can be gentle. Just let me prove it to you Blainey."

"No!" Blaine yelled again as flashes of red and blue flickered through the thin curtains so it almost looked like the walls were changing colours. Tears were streaming down his face as the gun shook even more in his sweaty grip. "If- if you loved me than you wouldn't rape me."

"I don't rape you," Pierre's voice still had that falsely coaxing edge as he took a step closer to the shaking, volatile boy. "We have sex. That's different Blainey, remember?" There was a pause, "Don't you love me Blainey?"

"You're right, there is a difference. Sex is consensual, something I never was! You never gave me a goddamn choice. Instead you raped me over and over again for _two goddamn years_. You never _stopped._ I begged and I begged you to stop and you never did. You said you like that I don't want it- it's your favourite part," Blaine accused again loudly, ignoring the question. "All I ever wanted was to go home, but you never let me. If you really loved me you would have _left me alone!_" There was a soft pause as Blaine breathed in deeply, "I won't let you hurt Kurt. I can't. I love him and unlike you he actually loves me back."

"Is that right?" Pierre smiled, reaching over to twist a hand into Kurt's hair where he was still kneeling in shock on the floor.

"Don't touch him!" Blaine was practically screaming at him now. "Get your hands off him! I won't let you hurt him like you hurt me. I won't. I just won't so- so stop touching him!"

"What are you going to do Blainey?" There was no coaxing in the man's voice now as he ran a hand across Kurt's face in a mock caress, "Are you going to shoot me? No, if you were going to you would have done it already. You're stalling. You're weak. You're pathetic. You're easy." He gripped the sides of Kurt's head hard suddenly in preparation. "You're so weak that I bet if I just broke his neck-" His hands twitched as if to twist sharply.

His words and his actions were cut off by a gunshot and a scream of, "I said stop!"

The grips on the sides of his head slackened and fell away as Pierre's eyes widened, his mouth gaping like a fish as he sank to the floor.

The gun fell to the floor with a sharp clatter and with wide eyes Kurt turned his head to stare at Blaine who was still staring at Pierre's fallen body. "I'm not easy," Blaine whispered, sinking to his knees as his bound hands went up to his face. "I'm not weak. I'm not."

"Blaine," Kurt whispered softly, shuffling on his knees over to him. His face was wet with tears but he was unashamed. He'd been so close to death and Blaine- Blaine had saved him. Blaine had found his strength. They were safe now. They were home free. "You're right. You're not any of those things. You're so strong honey. You just saved my life."

Blaine's hands dropped slightly as he stared at Kurt, "I killed him. I thought he was going to kill you and I just- I killed him."

"I know honey," Kurt shuffled even closer and wished that he could wrap his arms around the terrified, scarred boy in front of him. He settled for leaning against him lightly. At least then he didn't have to hold up his own weight so much. Everything hurt, "You did good. You saved me. We're safe now. We're safe because of you. You did it Blaine. You did it. You saved us."

"I wanna go home," Blaine sobbed softly.

"I know. Me too," Kurt whispered in agreement as the doors to the apartment split open and they were faced by several armed policemen and women. "We're going to go home Blaine," he added hoarsely, "We're going home."

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Like I said, the moment you've all been waiting for! Kurt and Blaine are home free- or are they?

Reviews are love! Please send me some. :)


	17. Chapter 17: Good News and Bad News

**Summary**: Two years ago Kurt's boyfriend was kidnapped and supposedly murdered. Two years ago Blaine was ripped away and brainwashed into believing his captor loved him. Its two years later and they've been reunited, but it's not everything they imagined it would be.

**Warning**: Non-explicit mentions of non-con. Some violence as well. Also mentions of suicidal thoughts (past mentions).

**A/N**: Sorry I got amused and thus we have Detective Wright and Detective Wong. This also isn't my favourite of the chapters, mostly because I'm really anxious for chapter 18 where we actually get some brotherly reunions. I'll admit I like the chapter myself, I'm just anxious for 18! Alas I have to wait until Tuesday. Sorry I can't do anymore early updates due to the ever approaching university exam period. :(

In any case I do hope you enjoy this chapter!

* * *

><p>Chapter 17: Good News and Bad News<p>

September 2013

After two years of separation and a week of nearly constant contact Kurt was not about to let a couple of police detectives and paramedics who thought they knew best separate them. "I'm fine. Let me ride with him. He _needs_ me."

"Look kid," the paramedic was still trying to get him to lie down on the stretcher, "you've both been through a lot and you're attached, I get it, but you've also got several injuries that we need to take a look at-"

"Well look at them while I'm with Blaine," Kurt snapped. His hands had been cut loose almost immediately after the police had swarmed the apartment. Blaine's had been too, but almost seconds later they'd been accosted by the paramedics who seemed to want to keep them separated, "I'm not leaving him alone. Do you have any idea what he's been through?"

"You both have injuries-"

"Mine are minor; a few cuts and bruises. I'm fine," Kurt insisted stubbornly. "Let me ride with Blaine or I'm refusing all medical assistance or whatever it is you're trying to do. He needs me and I'm not leaving him, not for anything or anyone, got me?"

A flicker of movement caught his eyes and he let out a growl. Two paramedics were sliding a needle into the still form of the blond man on the floor. "What are they doing?"

"They're transporting him to the hospital. That man's seriously injured-"

"So let him die," Kurt snapped angrily as two paramedics lifted the limp body onto a stretcher and bore Pierre away. "You let him live and Blaine's never going to feel safe. I'm never going to feel safe. We'll never _be_ safe."

"I'm afraid we can't do that," the man tried to make him lay back on his own stretcher and he let out a grumble. He lay back, giving into the pain screaming in his ribs. "Look he will be restrained in the event he wakes up. Everything's going to be fine-"

"Everything is not fine and I still want to ride with Blaine-"

"Son considering your ribs you need to stay still," the paramedic shook his head and his hands went to press on his shoulders when he tried to fight his way up. Almost immediately his body stiffened in fear. After all it had only been mere minutes ago that another man had been holding him down with much more nefarious intentions.

"Don't touch me!"

Almost at the same time he heard another, much smaller, scared voice pleading, "Please, don't- don't touch me."

Kurt looked at the paramedic, anger flashing in his eyes as he growled, "Take your hands off me _now_."

The paramedic lifted his hands away automatically and Kurt struggled off the stretcher, huffing as pain crackled in his ribs. He pushed away the helping hand that the man tried to put on his elbow and limped over with an arm braced around his midsection to where Blaine was lying on a different stretcher.

The boy's eyes were flickering in every direction, still looking terrified, but his gaze stilled on Kurt when he lightly touched Blaine's hand. "Don't- don't leave me Kurt. If-if you leave me I'm not going to believe any of this is real."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Kurt whispered softly, curling his hand gently around Blaine's.

"You- you won't let them hurt me right?" Blaine asked in a very small whisper. "I-I what if they're Pierre's friends. Kurt- I- I don't know who to trust and- I'm just scared. I know I shouldn't be. It's supposed to be over, but- Kurt-"

"Shush, it's okay," Kurt soothed him very quietly. "You can trust me. I've got you and no one's going to hurt you anymore. You saved me-"

"I got you into it-"

"You _saved me_," Kurt repeated more firmly, locking his eyes on Blaine's, "you protected me and now I'm going to return the favour. I've got you Blaine. I'm here and I'm not letting those medics separate us, okay? I'm here." He looked over at the paramedics and the police officers milling about the apartment and added in their direction, "I will refuse all medical attention unless I'm allowed to ride with him."

"Your ribs-"

"Then I guess you'll have to let me stay with him, won't you?" Kurt snapped, turning his head back towards Blaine and gently smiling at him. "I'm here Blaine. This is real."

Blaine didn't answer him, but one of the paramedics did.

"Alright," the medic just motioned for him to climb into the ambulance. He didn't have to hesitate. He was going to be with Blaine and for the moment, that was enough.

* * *

><p>"So you waited a week to report your brother missing?" The detective was looking at Finn with a bit of a scowl on his face.<p>

"Dude, my step-dad told me that the guy said he'd kill Kurt if we went to the cops-"

"Look kid-"

"All due respect Detective," Joey crossed his arms, "I can see what's going on here. You think Finn had something to do with his step-brother's disappearance right? You think because he waited a week to report the kidnapping that what- he's behind it? Look I know I'm out of my jurisdiction and I'm not trying to tell you how to do your job, but you're wasting time. Finn loves his brother and was just doing what he thought was the best thing for him at the time. Plus I was listening in during the drop. Finn's not involved."

The detective scowled a little bit deeper, "Can you describe this kidnapper to me Mr. Hudson?"

"Um, tall, but you know, not taller than me. He was a couple inches shorter than me so yeah. I think he had blue eyes too," Finn mumbled, looking at the metal table underneath him. "I know it's not much help but he was like wearing a mask and stuff. I didn't really get a good look at much other than his car and his gun."

"Well describe the car to me," the detective sighed a little, his pen poised against a notepad.

"It was this old beat up thing. It was silver and really rusted up. He had cardboard over the licence plates too, which was kind of weird."

"He did that to cover his tracks," Joey muttered quietly, sounding like it was more to himself than anyone else. He frowned to himself as well, eyebrows furrowing, "My dad said the guy who killed Blaine did the same thing."

All three occupants of the room looked to the door when it opened suddenly and a man in a suit looked in, his eyes heading straight at both Joey and Finn. "Detective Wright do you mind if I-"

"Well you're in here now, so go ahead," the detective cut him off and waved a hand in the general direction of the two young men across the table from him.

"You're reporting the kidnapping of Kurt Hummel-" the man questioned in a quiet voice.

"Yeah- that's my brother- well step-brother but yeah," Finn nodded his head and tilted it to the side in confusion.

The man looked over at Joey, "You mentioned the name Blaine?"

Joey looked away, his face tense, "My little brother who was murdered two years ago."

"No body was ever recovered, correct?"

"Why does this matter?" Joey snapped, crossing his arms.

"I'm Detective Wong and I have some good news for the both of you," the man in the suit had a hint of a smile on his face. "I just came from a very lucrative bust. Two young men managed to overpower their abductor and were rescued from an apartment building in Manhattan about an hour ago. One boy claims to be Kurt Elizabeth Hummel; the other Blaine Theodore Anderson."

Joey stumbled back, "Wh-what? No. My brother's dead. He was murdered two years ago and if this is some kind of joke it's not funny."

"Why don't you take a trip down to the hospital and see for yourself," Detective Wong asked with a small smile. "At the very least Mr. Hummel is very much alive, if not a little worse for the wear. When I sent them off in the ambulance I was assured both of them weren't seriously injured."

"Kurt's okay?" Finn barely heard the information about Blaine, although somewhere in his subconscious he was filing the information away. At this moment his mind was focussed purely on his brother, "Where is he?"

"They're both being treated at Lenox Hill Hospital," Detective Wong spoke quietly. "Both boys are suffering from a myriad injuries but nothing life threatening. They should be fine."

"Dude?" Finn looked over at Joey somewhat in wonder at his continued silence. The other boy's face was completely white, as he fumbled around in his wallet.

After a minute he had a photo in his hands and he pushed it at Detective Wong, "Is this the boy? Is this the boy who says he's Blaine?"

Wong studied the picture for a brief moment, "He's got a lot more hair and he's thinner now, but that's definitely the same kid."

An odd choking noise escaped the twenty four year old and Finn looked at him in alarm, "Dude, you alright?"

Joey's face was, if possible, even paler and his eyes were streaming tears, but there was a huge grin on his face. "I-I'm great. I'm better than great. Kurt's been found and- Bl-Blaine's alive. Blaine's alive Finn, didn't you hear him? My little brother's alive."

Finn clapped a hand on the man's shoulder. He certainly hoped that it was true and not some kind of mistake. He could only imagine how the other boy would feel if he had to lose his brother all over again. He knew after only nearly losing Kurt once that it would be enough to completely break him.

"I-I need to call my family. They- they need to know about this." Joey looked positively dazed as he spoke, pulling out his cell phone. "You should call your parents and Rachel- let them know you're alright and that Kurt's been found and-"

"Dude, call your family. Forget about me for now," Finn patted the other boy's shoulder as they followed Wong out of the interview room. He knew he needed a quiet moment himself and pondered for a moment who he should call first, his parents or Rachel- in the end he realized it was a non-question. Burt definitely needed this phone call more than Rachel did.

He slipped his phone out of his pocket and quickly dialled the number.

"Finn?" Burt's voice was immediate, "How'd it go? Is Kurt with you? Are you both alright?"

"The cops said Kurt's alright. The drop went awful. Dude took the money and took off saying he'd kill Kurt," Finn relayed quickly before diving into the rest of the story. Burt definitely needed to know the rest of the story. "The cops found Kurt and Blaine later and took them to the hospital. They're hurt, but you know- okay. I haven't seen Kurt yet-"

"Did you just say what I think you said?" Burt stopped him in a startled tone. "They found Kurt _and_ Blaine?"

"Yeah- I guess he's been alive this whole time," Finn mumbled into the phone. "Joey and I are going to go to the hospital now. You and Mom should totally come up-"

"We'll be on the next flight. Finn, do the Andersons know-"

"Joey's calling them now. I've never seen the dude look so happy," Finn gave a goofy kind of grin even though no one could see it. Two families were about to be reunited and damn if it felt good. "Burt I got to call Rachel and let her know I'm alright. Is there anything you want me to tell Kurt when I see him?"

"Yes," Burt's voice was soft, "Tell him to call me so I can tell him how much I love him and if he ever scares me like this again I'll- I'll-" Burt stopped, apparently unable to finish the threat. Finn understood. After how close he'd come to losing his brother he wouldn't throw around the word 'kill' so loosely either.

"Throw out all his fancy clothes?" Finn suggested instead with a weak chuckle, "You know he'd hate that."

Burt let out a half laugh half cough, "Yeah, he would hate that. You take care of yourself buddy and I'll see you soon. Now call Rachel before she frets a hole in the carpet."

Finn nodded, before realizing his step-father was in a whole other state and speaking out loud, "Kay Burt. See you soon."

"Love you buddy," Burt's voice was soft.

"Love you too," Finn mumbled back. He couldn't wait to be able to say those same words to his brother- but first he had to call Rachel and he was almost dreading it. Something- namely experience- told him it was going to take forever to get her off the phone once he gave her the crazy, mind boggling news. She'd want an explanation and he just didn't have one.

* * *

><p>Detective Wong pulled him aside while Finn was on his cell phone over in the corner and put a hand on his shoulder, "You're a police officer, are you not Mr. Anderson?"<p>

Joey looked at the detective oddly, "Yeah. I'm an officer with the Lima District Police Department. W-why?"

"I didn't want to say this in front of Mr. Hudson due to the sensitivity of the subject and the fact that his step-brother claims that he wasn't assaulted in the same way, but I'm afraid not all the news I have for you is good Mr-"

"You can call me Joey," Joey whispered quietly, his stomach starting to sink. He already knew the answer- his father had mentioned the possibility of it when they'd thought Blaine had been killed, but he asked the question anyways, "Wh-what do you mean assaulted?"

"Well Joey, as you know there are different reasons why a person would keep their victims for an extended period of time, but when it comes to an underage victim of kidnapping being held captive the agenda is more often than not a sexual one," the detective's voice was gentle and the man looked genuinely sad. "It's quite possible- and I believe it is the case due to the initial statements I took at the scene- that your brother was sexually abused during his captivity. That doesn't come without trauma. When you see him- it may be difficult for him. He may be ashamed, scared-"

"Look detective- I need to see my brother. He needs to see me. I'll be whatever he needs me to be," Joey told him deliberately. "We- we've always known that there was a- um- sexual component to my brother's kidnapping. I can't say I've been prepared for this, considering I thought he was dead, but what you've told me, other than him being alive of course, unfortunately doesn't come as a shock."

"I'm just warning you that he's had a tough couple of years," Wong's eyes were slightly downcast. "I saw your brother Joey. He's traumatized- I just wanted you to be aware of that. Be sensitive to his needs-"

"I'm his brother- I will be," Joey's snapped, his fists clenching slightly.

"His trauma extends more than you know. He was forced to shoot the man holding him and Mr. Hummel hostage. That kind of thing will have a profound effect on him-"

Joey stilled for a moment in shock. That information was definitely a surprise. "Blaine shot him-"

"According to the initial statements the man they identified as Pierre- no last name known as of yet- was about to attempt to kill Mr. Hummel and your brother fought with Pierre for the gun, before shooting him in the defence of Mr. Hummel," the detective explained quietly.

"Well- Blaine- he'd-" he was at a loss for a long moment. "I understand that will be something difficult for him to come to terms with, but he'll realize he did what he had to do. I can- I can help him with that. I'll do what it takes detective and I'll be sensitive. You don't have to worry about that."

"I'll let you call your family," Detective Wong nodded at him briefly, before stepping away to give him some space. It was obvious the detective meant well, but he was insane if he thought that he wouldn't be able to help Blaine.

His poor brother had been kidnapped for two years and kept from his family. Of course he was traumatized and that was before taking the sexual abuse into account- not that he particularly wanted to think about that. He'd prefer to forget it even though it wasn't an option. Blaine would never get the luxury of forgetting, so why should he?

Joey Anderson stared at his phone for a long moment. He had no idea how he was supposed to tell this news to his parents. Would they even believe him? He hardly believed it himself. He couldn't put off the call. He needed to get to the hospital and be there for Blaine and his parents needed to be on their way when he was.

His fingers slid over the screen, dialling out the number and he let out a small sigh as the phone rang. "Dad, it's me Joey."

"Did you get Kurt back safely?" His father asked immediately.

"Well- sort of," Joey was careful with his words. There was no way he could take credit for this. Apparently it was all Blaine. "Let's just say one of your sons is responsible for the fact Kurt's safe now, but it wasn't me."

"Now you're just confusing me son," Leo's voice was shaky, almost as if the realization was there but he was afraid to say it out loud.

"Dad- Blaine's alive and being treated at Lennox Hill Hospital here in Manhattan. Whatever you heard that night- it wasn't Blaine being killed, because he wasn't. Dad- I can't say he's okay because I haven't seen him yet and I don't know- but he's alive." He sniffed and wiped his eyes with his free hand. "Dad- you, Mom and Bri need to get up here. Bring Ness and B.B. if you can. Blaine's alive and God, Dad, he needs us."

"Joey- Joey, are you sure? You can't get my hopes up like this if you're not sure. It could kill me," there were a few shallow breaths that followed those words through the phone.

"I showed a picture of Blaine to one of the detectives that were there at the scene Dad. He says it's Blaine. He's sure of it. Dad, this is real. It's real."

"We'll be there on the next available flight," his father's voice was shaking, but it wasn't the familiar shakes that came when the man had a bit too much to drink or was crying over his lost child. This time his voice was shaky with excitement. "I-I have to go tell your mother. She's right- damn your mother's one smart woman Joe. I always knew there was a reason I married her."

"Dad I have to go to the hospital now. Blaine needs me, but I'll see you tomorrow at the latest?" He asked.

"Kid I'll be there tonight if I can manage it," Leo told him firmly. "Now you go take care of your brother, young man. He needs family with him tonight."

"I will Dad. I will." He squeezed his hand around the phone momentarily as he hung up, before looking at where Finn and Detective Wong were waiting for him. "I think it's time Finn and I got to see our brothers."

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><p><strong>AN**: Is anyone else excited for some brotherly reunions? There will be familial reunions too of course, but flights take time, so those will have to be delayed slightly. Anyway I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please leave me a review!


	18. Chapter 18: Brothers

**Summary**: Two years ago Kurt's boyfriend was kidnapped and supposedly murdered. Two years ago Blaine was ripped away and brainwashed into believing his captor loved him. It's two years later and they've been reunited, but it's not everything they imagined it would be.

**Warning**: Non-explicit mentions of non-con. Some violence as well. Also mentions of suicidal thoughts (past mentions).

**A/N:** Well it's finally Spring and we actually had a few days that were decently warm. Of course yesterday it was in the negatives (Celsius) so yeah it didn't last long. In any case I've finally made a decision on this story and how I'm formatting it in the case of Blaine's recovery. I'm not going to do a sequel; instead this story is going to be in two parts. 'Part One: Two Years Later' being the part you're reading now. It'll go up to chapter 21. Then there will be a three week hiatus due to exams (spanning from the day chapter 21 is posted until April 24th 2012), after which I will start 'Part Two: Living in the Present' which still span from chapter 22 until the end of the story. This way you won't have to search for the second part/kind of sequel because it'll just be tacked onto the end of this story! I hope that's a satisfactory compromise .

Anyways now that I've subjected you to a terribly long author's note, please enjoy the next chapter!

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><p>Chapter 18: Brothers<p>

Upon arriving at the hospital hours ago the doctors had managed to do what the paramedics hadn't. They'd separated the two boys and now were refusing to give Kurt any information on how Blaine was doing. He wasn't _family_ and apparently wasn't privy to that kind of information. It was driving him crazy.

No one seemed to want to tell him what had happened to Pierre either. He couldn't make himself feel bad about it, but he sincerely hoped the man died on the way to the hospital. He certainly wasn't going to feel safe being in the same building as that man, even if he had a uniformed guard at his door.

His only relief was the knowledge that Finn was on his way to see him at this very moment. His nurse had just explained that his brother was in the hospital waiting to be allowed to see him and would be just be a minute or two. He sincerely hoped that Finn had already thought to call their parents, but knowing the other… well… Finn had probably forgotten in his excitement.

"Dude!" Finn's voice was welcome when the bigger, taller boy came into the hospital room looking very relieved, "You had us freaking worried." The other boy was suddenly gripping him hard in a tight hug, "Thank God you're alright. That dude said he was going to kill you and- damn I was really scared-"

"Finn, Finn," Kurt let out a small gasp as his brother's arms jostled his injured ribs, "Ease up will you? I'm a little worse for the wear, you know?"

There was a pause as Finn pulled back and slowly took in the bruises covering his brother's body and the bruises and cuts on his face. "Kurt, you okay?"

"Just lots of bruises," Kurt assured him softly. "I'm told nothing was broken except maybe a cracked rib or two and that I might have a teeny tiny concussion. I know my face probably looks like ground beef but I'm fine, I promise."

There was a soft puff of breath from Finn, "Thank God! Rachel and I were like freaking out. I mean Mom and Burt were too, but they were at home and all, but they're on the next flight up." He paused with a sideways frown, "Are you sure you're okay?"

Kurt smiled weakly at his brother, "Just a little worse for the wear I promise. Pierre had it in his mind to kill me, but Blaine saved me-"

"Blaine?" Finn's eyes bugged slightly, "Blaine as in your dead boyfriend? You mean that detective guy wasn't just shitting with us?"

"Nope, Blaine- he's really alive," Kurt corrected in a hoarse voice. "That- that man kept him for two years, forcing him to rob people and- and-" he stopped, unable to go any further. "I swore Blaine had Stockholm's so bad that we might never get out of there, but- but he came through in the end. He remembered."

"What?"

Kurt felt a tear start to slip down his cheek and he hastily wiped it away, "He remembered who really loved him."

"Kay dude, I'm lost. Would you explain to me what went on here?" Finn asked him, flopping down into the thin cushions on the metal chair next to Kurt's hospital bed.

Kurt propped himself up, carefully adjusting the bed with the small attached remote so he was practically sitting up. "Well, technically it was Blaine who kidnapped me in the first place-"

"Wait what?"

"Let me explain," Kurt said impatiently, a frown on his face, "He didn't have a choice- it wasn't his fault. He had Stockholm's syndrome and Pierre, the man who kidnapped him, was making him rob people. He basically had a 'Do as I say or I'll kill you' mentality and Blaine believed him- for good reason too. I had the luck of being one of those people Pierre was making him rob, but Blaine- he couldn't do it. Pierre was watching him and found out, so he forced Blaine to kidnap me. He had a gun Finn, neither Blaine or I could exactly run. I don't think Blaine would have if he could. He sincerely believed that Pierre loved him, and would kill him if he ran."

"I don't get how he could think that guy loved him if he was willing to kill him," Finn mumbled in an angry tone, "Doesn't make sense to me."

"It doesn't have to," Kurt said in a low voice. "It made sense to him. I guess it's like when some women won't leave their abusive husbands or boyfriends. It's a mixture of being too scared and thinking they'll change."

"I still don't get it," Finn let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair in a tired gesture, "but you know dude, I don't have to. You get it and obviously he gets it- so obviously there's something to get. I just don't, you know?"

"I think so," Kurt murmured, chewing a little on his lip. "Finn- you- you wouldn't happen to know what happened to him- would you? Pierre I mean. I know they brought him here and Blaine shot him, but no one will tell me if he's alive or dead or where he is and honestly it terrifies the hell out of me."

"Blaine shot him-"

"To protect me. Pierre was about to kill me. Finn- I need to know- what happened to him? What happened to Pierre? Did he die? Please- I just- I'd feel a lot better if I knew he was dead." His hand reached to clutch the sheets of the hospital blanket, "If he's alive- I really don't want him to try to come back and finish what he started. Finn?"

Finn looked a little surprised at the outburst. "Kurt, man, I'm sorry but I have no idea. I didn't think to ask really. Um- would it make you feel better if you saw Rachel? She's on her way here and I know she's been worried about you."

"Honestly I just want my dad and Blaine," Kurt's voice was weak as he sank deeper into the bed. "I mean I just- I love Rachel Finn, I really do. I just don't know if I could handle her right now; do- do you understand? Do you think she'll understand?"

"I guess," Finn shrugged, frowning softly at his brother. Obviously the week of captivity had had an impact, because he was pretty sure he'd never seen Kurt like this. It was definitely different from the time when they thought Blaine had been killed. Then Kurt had been distraught and overly emotional- now he just looked exhausted and scared in addition to the yearning. "I'll just- I'll tell her you're overwhelmed or something. Do- do you want me to ask if you can share a hospital room with Blaine? I could do that- ask for you, I mean."

"Maybe when the nurse comes to check in," Kurt murmured with a deep breath, his hand stirring and reaching out. Finn took it and gave it a light squeeze, "I think I'd prefer if I wasn't left alone right now though. Would- do you mind staying with me?"

"Dude, just try and get me to leave," Finn teased him in a weak voice, gripping his brother's fingers a little tighter. "I'm not going anywhere. You- you look like you could use a nap. Just sleep Kurt. I'll be here when you wake up, promise."

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><p>"Blaine," the nurse smiled at him gently, "I have someone here who's very eager to see you."<p>

He sat up in the hospital bed, wincing as his bruises were jostled and adjusted the bed so it would support his sitting position with the little remote. "Is it Kurt?"

"No Blaine, but I promise you'll be happy to see him," her smile became a little brighter as she looked down the hall. Apparently his visitor was on their way at that very moment.

No one would tell him if Pierre was alive or dead. His whole body stiffened as the irrational thought slipped into his mind. It couldn't be him- under a false name or something- could it?

He clasped his arms around him tightly and his eyes widened when he saw his brother stumble through the doorway of the hospital room. The stiff fear drained from his body as his brother just stared at him for a moment, "Blainers?"

"Jo-Joey?" He asked in a quiet voice, "What are you doing here? Kurt- Kurt said you lived in Ohio."

His brother was at the side of his hospital bed in an instant, reaching out with his arms, then hesitating and pulling back self-consciously. "Finn called me when he found out Kurt had been kidnapped. He and Rachel wanted my help since I'm a police officer and everything now."

"Oh," Blaine murmured softly, looking down at the warm blanket covering his lap.

"I missed you Blainers," Joey's voice sounded a little cracked, but he ignored the emotion. His brother wouldn't even touch him, so it was obvious to him that the emotion was faked. The words, they had to be lies.

"I missed you too," he whispered, speaking the truth.

"Blaine," a hand reached out tentatively.

"It's okay. You don't have to," Blaine shrugged his shoulders lightly, leaning back into the bed a little. "I kind of disgust me too."

"No!" He looked over at the forcefulness of his brother's voice. "No Blaine. No, just no. You don't- you could never disgust me. I'm just- I don't want to hurt you. I don't know how to do this. I mean- they give you sensitivity training in the academy and all, but how could they ever prepare me to see my brother like this-"

"Like what?" His voice was bitter and wavered a little with fear.

"Hurt," Joey broke out, his voice hoarse. His hand reached out tentatively to hover over the stitches in his cheek and cup his brother's face in his hand, but he pulled it back when Blaine let out a flinch. "It's like someone's ripping my heart out. Blaine- little Blainers, it hurts to see you in pain. I love you so much, you know? You're my baby brother. I'm supposed to protect you and- and I didn't."

"It's not your fault, you know," Blaine murmured suddenly, remembering what Kurt had told him during their shared captivity. "Pierre was watching me. If you had given me a ride he'd just have gotten to me later."

"That doesn't make it better Blaine," Joey whispered with a shake of his head, sinking into the cushioned chair beside the hospital bed.

"No I guess it doesn't," his shoulders slumped down a little. "Are you sure I don't disgust you?"

"Blaine-"

"It's just I haven't seen you in two years and you thought I was dead and- and you still haven't hugged me yet. Whenever I imagined it –rescue I mean- I thought someone would hug me," Blaine explained in a rush and suddenly Joey's arms were wrapped tight around him.

"I wasn't sure if you wanted me to," Joey rushed out in return, his arms still clasped around him as Blaine reached out to grasp him back for a moment. "I didn't want to rush you- or scare you. God Blaine you have to know how much I missed you."

"Joey- Joey-" he let out a soft whimper, but bit it back. Almost immediately Joey's arms faded from him and the older boy was sitting back in the chair.

"Did I hurt you?" The voice was anxious.

"It's fine-"

"Just because that bastard was okay with hurting you doesn't mean I am," Joey snapped at him and he flinched backward slightly, sinking into the bed and trying to look small. Joey's hand ran through his hair, "I'm sorry Blaine. I didn't mean to scare you. I just- I don't know how to handle this."

"I'm sorry too," Blaine murmured, adding quickly, "about our last two phone conversations I mean. You- you're not a shitty brother-"

"Am too."

"-and the other time when Pierre put me on the phone with you," he stopped for a second, breathing in deeply. According to Kurt, Joey already knew what Pierre had done to him during the first week, so it wouldn't shock his brother to say it. Nonetheless he barely got the words out, "He- he raped me for the sec-second time before he called Dad. I really tried to hold myself together but- but everything hurt so much and then he started t-touching me while I was talking to you and I just- I just couldn't do it."

Joey reached over and opened his arms, gathering his brother into a much gentler hug than before. "It's not your fault Blainers. It's not-"

There was a slight knock on the door and a nurse, a different one than from earlier stepped into the room with some kind of kit in her hands. "Hello Blaine," she said in a soft voice, "my name's Macy and if it's alright with you I'd like to check you out, alright?"

Blaine's eyes flickered to his brother momentarily, before turning back to the nurse, "They already stitched my cuts."

The nurse's face softened into a sad expression, "Blaine with your permission I'd like to take a rape kit."

"What does it matter?" Blaine whispered, his body shaking slightly. "He's dead. I killed him, didn't I? Did he die? Is he okay?"

"I can't give you any information on your alleged attacker. All I can tell you is that taking the kit is procedure," Nurse Macy said as if that explained it all. At his blank look the woman added very quietly, "It's also part of the evidence to clear the shooting as self-defence, or so I'm told." She paused, "I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to and I'll explain everything as I go so you know why it's happening."

"I-I please-" it was like he couldn't get the words out. "I don't…"

"It'll really help the police if you let me do this-"

"Don't you think he's been through enough without everyone poking and prodding at him," Joey spoke up, his voice quiet but rough, especially once he heard the dread in his brother's voice. It was obvious Blaine didn't want to go through with the kit. "It was clearly a defensive shooting so I don't understand why you're trying to put my little brother through further trauma."

"Blaine is an adult Officer Anderson. He can make these decisions for himself-"

"Well it's obvious he doesn't want to, isn't it?" Joey demanded, forcing himself to keep his voice quiet so he wouldn't scare his brother. "As for that, did you know that when someone is held captive for an extended period of time it can stunt their ability to mature emotionally and psychologically? They don't have time because they're too busy _surviving_." He paused, breathing heavily, "Emotionally he's still sixteen, so since our parents won't be here until tomorrow and as Blaine's brother I'm telling you that you're not going to touch him if he doesn't want you to and I'm not going to let you coerce him into letting you."

"As a police officer you should know how important it is to collect all the evidence-"

"I'm not a police officer right now. Right now my only job is to be Blaine's older brother," Joey growled at her. He softened his expression and looked to Blaine, "Blainers, in all honestly do you want her to do the kit?"

Blaine shook his head. "I'm so tired- I'm so tired of people touching me. I just- I want it to stop." His eyes looked incredibly young as he looked up at his brother, "Please don't let them touch me again. I need it to be over."

Joey turned to the nurse, who looked heartbroken at Blaine's words and obviously sympathetic, but he steeled himself against it. His brother was the only one who mattered right now. "He doesn't want you here, please leave."

The nurse looked at Blaine, "Hon, would you let me take a blood sample? It's just a needle so we can do some tests. I'll barely have to touch you, would that be alright?"

Blaine looked at his brother for direction.

"It's not my decision Blaine. It's your choice- no one else's, okay?" Joey told him in a quiet voice. "But if she were to do it- it'd just be a needle in your arm, nothing else and I'll stay with you."

"I- okay," he nodded his head quietly, only flinching a little when the nurse moved up to the side of the bed. His brother scooped up his hand and squeezed it gently while the nurse's hovered over his opposite arm.

"I need to use a tourniquet to find your vein," she told him softly, showing him the rubber tourniquet, before tying it around his bicep adeptly.

"I don't like it-" Blaine's voice was immediate and quiet, his eyes on the rubber tied around his arm. "I don't want to be tied up Joe."

"She's not going to," Joey squeezed his hand again. "Just look at me buddy. It's going to be alright. We'll let her take her blood sample and it'll be over. You'll see. It'll be fine."

The needle slipped into his arm and he flinched, shaking a little in the bed.

"Ma'am, are you almost done?" Joey asked, not taking his eyes off his brother's.

Macy slipped another vial into the needle, "We just need to take a few samples for a couple different tests that need to be done. We're almost there." The vial filled up and she slipped in a third, "This is the last one. If get it all done now we won't have to take more blood hopefully. We don't need to put you through more than you need to- do we Sweetie?"

Blaine ignored her, instead squeezing his brother's hand tightly as the tourniquet was pulled from his arm and the needle slipped from his vein, before a small cotton ball was taped over the hole.

"Thank you Blaine," the nurse smiled at him gently as she collected up the labelled vials. "You feel better now Hon. Let your brother take care of you. He's doing a good job."

"Joey," Blaine's voice questioned very softly as the nurse left and he sank down again next to his brother's hospital bed, "do you know what happened to Pierre? I saw them take him away on a stretcher but- but I'm scared. I'm scared that I killed him, but- but I'm terrified I didn't. Joey-"

"Whether you did or you didn't he is never going to touch you again," Joey promised fervently, collecting up his brother's hands in his own. "I will never let him hurt you again, I promise you that now. You're safe Blaine. You're safe now."

"But what if I killed him?" Blaine's voice was shaking and tears were spilling from his eyes. "God Joe he was all I had for two years- he took care of me-"

"No Blaine, no; he abused you. He didn't take care of you-"

"I know," the words slipped out with a sob. "I know. I know he didn't love me. I know it in my head, but I- I can't help that I feel- I'm just- I don't know what or how to feel. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel Joey. Everything hurts and I'm just so confused and-" he broke off, his voice choking on the words hoarsely.

"It's okay to be confused," Joey rose from the chair and sat on the edge of the bed so he could slide his arms around his brother. "It's okay to be scared, or to feel bad about it, or to feel good about it or even to feel both. No one can tell you what you're supposed to feel. It's natural to feel bad about hurting someone and it's natural if you feel good about hurting the person who hurt you the way he did. As long as you know that you did the right thing. You did what you had to, to protect Kurt and to protect yourself. Feel what you feel Blaine, as long as you know that you did what you had to and no one can blame you for that- no one."

His brother didn't answer him. Instead Blaine just leaned his head against him and continued to weep softly.

"I love you Blainers. I always have. Even when I thought you were gone I still loved you and I still love you. Mom, Dad and Bri are on their way and they're going to be so happy to see you," he whispered very gently as he brushed his brother's hair out of his eyes. "Everyone missed you so much."

Blaine didn't speak, but his sobs abated just a little as he spoke.

"I got married, you know? I really wish you could have been there. I wanted you for my best man, but Kurt had to stand in for you. It was nice to have him there, but it wasn't the same without you, but now that you're back I'm sure Ness will be happy to renew our vows and you can be standing up there with me as my best man. Wouldn't that be nice?"

The sobs stopped and Blaine nodded his head against his shoulder.

"I can't wait for you to meet her. She's the greatest. I'm sure you and Ness will get along great. She always wished she could meet you. Looks like now she gets her wish, huh? I really hope you love her as much as I do- well maybe not in the same way though," he faked a small laugh. "Then again you have Kurt so I have nothing to worry about, now do I?"

Blaine just let out a small sniffle, listening to every word but not venturing to speak.

"Then there's baby Blaine- Blaine Bennett- or B.B. as we all call him. I'm so glad- so glad-" Joey had to stop for a minute as he started crying himself. He had to smile a little though when Blaine reached over to the small table on the other side of the bed and grabbed a Kleenex box before pushing it at him. "Thanks Bro." He wiped his eyes for a second, "I- I was just trying to tell you how glad I am B.B. gets to grow up with his Uncle Blaine around after all. He's my world Blainers. My son is my everything and it means the world to me that he's going to get to have you in his life. It wasn't fair that for a long time I thought he wouldn't." He squeezed his arm around his brother and held him tight, "It wasn't fair that we all had to lose you, but you're back now and you have to know how much we all love you- how glad we are to have you back."

Blaine licked his lips and looked at his brother, opening his mouth as if to speak. In the end he just closed his mouth again, unsure of how to answer and let his brother continue to hold him gently.

"I know I didn't tell you enough before, but I do love you Blaine," Joey spoke as firmly as he could muster through his tears. "I love you."

Blaine stared, before he whispered very softly, "I love you too. I just- I wish I believed you."

Joey's grip slackened in surprise, "What? Blaine I know we weren't always close, but you're my brother- of course I love you."

"You think you do because you think you're supposed to," Blaine mumbled, although he didn't lean away. As much as he didn't believe it- he wanted to- he wanted to believe this embrace and all the words Joey had spoken were true. "It's not the same."

"I don't think I love you Blaine," Joey tightened his arms again and looked him in the eyes. "You are my brother and I love you because you're an amazingly strong person. You survived two years with a psychopath who probably tried to make you think no one could love you but him- is that right?"

"Maybe," he lowered his eyes as he croaked out the words.

"Blaine he told you those things to keep you from running away. He wanted to make sure you thought you had nowhere to go. He lied to you so you'd stay- so you'd be too scared to leave. I love you. Mom and Dad love you. Bri loves you. Kurt loves you. Don't you dare believe someone who abused you and kept you away from your family for years. Believe me- believe your big brother- when I say I love you, because unlike that man I have no reason to lie to you."

Blaine swallowed the thick lump in his throat and tried to make himself believe it. It was logical. It made sense. Of course once upon a time it made sense to him that Pierre could love him. It had even made sense to him to love Pierre- or at least to try to.

But like Joey said- Pierre had a reason to lie- Joey didn't.

So he looked at his brother and minutely nodded his head. He still wasn't sure, but maybe with time he could make himself believe it.

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><p><strong>AN**: I hope you enjoyed the brotherly reunions. The rest of the families shall be reunited in the next chapter. I may have cried a little when writing chapter 19, so hey something to look forward to!

Please drop me a review. They're lovely.

P.S. The three week hiatus I'm planning will probably be as painful for me as it is for you. I literally live off your reviews!


	19. Chapter 19: Family Matters

**Summary**: Two years ago Kurt's boyfriend was kidnapped and supposedly murdered. Two years ago Blaine was ripped away and brainwashed into believing his captor loved him. It's two years later and they've been reunited, but it's not everything they imagined it would be.

**Warning**: Non-explicit mentions of non-con. Some violence as well. Also mentions of suicidal thoughts (past mentions).

**A/N**: So I may have misinformed you. The hiatus will most likely only be two weeks, two and a half at most and there will most likely be 22 chapters in Part One. Oops!

Also never write reunions between mother and child while listening to Somewhere Only We Know and missing your own mom. You will cry. At least- I did. I had to stop writing and call my mommy. This chapter pretty much destroyed me in that sense with all the reunions, especially since I'm currently living away from the rest of my family. My dad and brothers are 8 hours away, my sister's 8 hours in the other direction and my mom lives in B.C.! In any case I hope you enjoy this chapter!

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><p>Chapter 19: Family Matters<p>

"Blainers I'm back and I have some visitors for you," Joey smiled gently for his brother when he stepped into the hospital room. "Mom's here right now and Dad and Bri will be in soon. I just thought it might be easier to do it one at a time." He gestured to someone outside the room and Blaine's fingers tightened over the hospital blanket nervously.

"Baby?" His mother's face peered into the room and the moment she saw him she tried to rush to his side. Joey held her back automatically as Blaine started to stiffen in fear.

"Mom," Joey shook his head, "You're going to scare him."

"He's my baby," Bianca pulled her arm out of her son's grip, but nonetheless approached her son much more cautiously this time. "Hi baby boy." She sank into the chair next to his bed and collected up his hand in one of her own, "Mama missed you, baby."

"I missed you too Mom," he mumbled, tears brimming up in his eyes as he tugged her hand so she'd come a little closer. Almost immediately he was enveloped in her embrace and he sank into her warm, comforting presence. The tears slid down his face and he buried it into her shoulder as his arms clutched around her tightly.

He didn't want her to ever let go.

Her hand was threading through his hair as he heard the quiet murmurs, "I knew you'd come back to me baby. I just knew."

His body was starting to tremble against hers as tiny sobs hiccoughed from his chest. "Mom- Mom- please- please-"

"What is it, baby?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to leave," he spluttered out in a small voice through his sobs, "Please still love me."

"Oh baby of course I love you," his mother gripped him even tighter. "You listen to me Blaine Theodore Anderson- nothing in this world could ever make me stop loving you. I love you and that will _never_ change."

"Please don't let him take me again-"

"Never," she cut him off, her voice fierce. "I will claw his eyes out myself and stick a heel in his throat if he ever tries to come near my baby again." Her hand continued to thread carefully through his hair, "Mama's here now baby. I love you. It's going to be okay." There was a long pause of silence while she just held him, her hand sifting gently through his hair and down the back of his neck in a comforting gesture, before she asked in a quiet voice. "Would it be okay if your Dad came in now?"

He lifted his head from her shoulder, letting out in a croaked voice, "Dad?"

"He's just outside the door baby, if you want to see him," Bianca told her son gently. "It would mean so much to him, but if you need a little longer to prepare yourself he'd understand."

"I want to see Dad," he whispered hoarsely.

"Joey honey," his mother addressed his brother in a quiet voice where he was standing by the door silently, "send in your father would you and wait with Bri?"

Joey nodded briefly and stepped outside the door. Only seconds later his father was walking in shuffling steps into the room. When his eyes landed on his son he stopped in his tracks, "Blaine?"

"Dad?" He asked, almost unsure. While his mother looked almost identical to the way she had when he'd been taken, other than a few wrinkles, his father looked completely changed. His previously black hair was sprinkled very liberally with greys and his smooth face was now deeply lined.

It was like hope had kept his mother young while grief had aged his father ten years instead of two.

His mother drew away but kept his hand in hers while his father sat down on the other side of the bed and reached out a gentle hand. "My God, son." The hand very gently trailed around the stitches on his cheek and stopped just above the stitches in his lip, "What did he _do_ to you?"

It sounded rhetorical, but his father had asked a question and if there was one thing he learned over the past two years it was that you never left a question unanswered. He knew his father wasn't Pierre, but the response was still automatic.

Blaine touched his lip and squeaked the words out. "He punched me because I wouldn't take off my clothes." He touched two fingers to his cheek next, "This was for asking him to let Kurt go- I guess- I guess I was questioning his authority or talking too much- I don't know. Sometimes I think he just hit me because he felt like it."

"I'm so sorry," his father's hand fell and a tear slid down the older man's face. "I'm so sorry I screwed everything up. I'm sorry I didn't save you two years ago. God Blaine, I'm just so sorry I didn't protect you-"

"It's not your fault Dad," Blaine choked out and sniffled slightly. "He was never going to let me go, even if you did give him the money."

"That doesn't change that I should have protected you-"

"Dad please I don't want to talk about him," the words were small and hoarse and Blaine looked at his father pleadingly. "I just want to forget, please."

"Blaine- son," Leo hesitated, his words choking a little in his throat, "Would you be alright if I hugged you? I've missed you so much-"

"Please," Blaine mumbled out, leaning towards his father and even going as far to let his hand slip out of his mother's.

For the first time in two years Leo pulled his son gently into his arms, rocking him slightly as Blaine wrapped his own arms around his father's torso, letting his head rest under the man's neck. "I'm so glad you're alive, son. I've missed you so much. Please don't ever disappear on me again, it nearly killed me-"

"I'm sorry Dad-"

"No- don't be sorry. I'm just- wording this all wrong. I just love you so much. I can't lose you again," there was a soft sigh as his father's arms tightened very gently around him. "I'm just trying- I'm not good with words, son, but I just need you to know how much I love you. There's just- there are no words."

"I love you too Dad," the words slipped out very quietly. He wasn't sure if he believed it, but it was certainly nice to hear it. Especially after hearing Pierre say so many times over and over again that his family was so much better off without him.

"Would you like to see your sister?" Leo asked in a quiet voice, sounding completely at ease with his son practically in his lap. "She's been dying to see you ever since we told her you'd been found."

He nodded his head, almost not trusting himself to speak. Out of everyone he needed to see his sister the most. He needed to see that she was safe. He still didn't know what happened to Pierre- if he was alive or dead, free or still in custody. He needed to see Brianna.

"Bri!" His father called gently and a pretty teenage girl stepped into the room wearing a grey cotton dress with a wide belt cinched at her waist. Her hair was loose around her shoulders. She was so much taller and thinner than he remembered. Her smile- well her smile was just the same, except for the small hint of pain hidden in the thin press of her lips.

"Blaine?" She stepped in tentatively, her eyes looking like muddy liquid pools the moment they landed on him.

"Hey, you alright?" He asked, his voice still feeling hoarse.

"Um, yeah?" She frowned at him curiously, her voice a little choked and climbed onto the bed, curling up on the end as a hand rested on his ankle lightly. "I think you're crazy for asking _me_ that question."

Blaine bit his lip and leaned a little closer to his father, letting the man hold up all his weight. His sister was okay. He could relax, at least for a moment. "I just needed to be sure." He faked a small smile, "You look really pretty Sissy, all grown up."

"You're lucky I love you or I'd definitely have to skin you alive for calling me that," she growled, her voice sounding a little weak in its playfulness. She squeezed his ankle very gently, "You- you- I know you're not alright now, but you will be, right?"

"I don't know. I guess," he whispered, watching as Joey sank into one of the other chairs in the room and wrapped an arm around their mother. "I still- it doesn't feel real." His breaths came in a little shallower, "I still- I still don't-," a tear slipped down his face, "I'm afraid I'm going to wake up and this is all going to be a dream."

She crawled up the bed and joined the embrace between her brother and father, a couple of tears breaking free to streak down her cheeks. Her hand curled over his and intertwined their fingers. "You feel that?"

"Feel what?"

"My hand, silly," she laughed weakly.

"Yeah, but I don't get it."

"So you know it's real," she whispered, squeezing his fingers tightly. "You know I'm really here. Dad's here. Mom's here. Joe's here. We're all here Blaine-o. I'd say we're not going anywhere, but we do have to go back to Ohio at some point. You're going to come with us of course, so it's not a bad thing. You're going to come home. I have presents for you too!"

He frowned at her softly, "How'd you find time for that-"

"I may not have had the same belief you were coming home like Mom, but-" she squeezed his fingers again, "every year I bought you a birthday and Christmas present anyways. I just- it would have felt wrong not to. So now when we get home you can open all those presents. Mom got you some too."

"I wanted to be ready for this day," his mother spoke up quietly, her hand resting on his back. "I didn't know when it would come, so- so I made sure I was always prepared."

His body shook harder and tears started streaming afresh down his face.

"Blaine?" His sister asked very quietly.

"It's real. It's really real," he whispered as the realization washed over. This was really happening. They really never stopped loving him. Pierre had lied. He was _loved_. They had to love him. They wouldn't have bought presents for someone they thought was dead unless they really truly loved him. "You- you really never stopped loving me?"

"Not for a second," it was his father who spoke up quietly.

"He lied?" He asked, relishing the feeling of his mother's small hand rubbing gentle circles into his back.

"I don't know what he told you, but I can tell you that if he said we stopped loving you that he was lying through his teeth," his father told him in a gentle tone. "We never stopped and we never will. We're a family son. Families love each other- no ifs, ands, or buts."

"Can we go home now?" He sniffled back some more tears.

"The doctors say you need to stay here a little longer," Joey spoke up in a quiet voice; "Another day or two. They want to keep you under observation since you still have a bit of a concussion and some broken ribs. Plus we might as well be here when you get the results of the blood tests."

"After that- then we can all go home," his father told him softly.

"Ness is really excited to meet you," Joey added, smiling a little. "She couldn't get the time off work to come up and see you, but she wants to meet us all at the airport when we go home."

"Okay," he mumbled very quietly. "She's the same girl you talked about that summer- the one- the one before?"

"Yup, same wonderful woman," Joey told him in a soft voice. "She saved me Blainers. After you were taken I was a mess. She's the one who made me clean up my act. Basically she told me I was wasting my life and I needed to stop punishing myself and do something positive. She said if I continued to waste my time I'd just be letting you down and I'd be losing her too. Suffice to say I smartened up after that."

Blaine just smiled, keeping his hand entangled in his sister's and taking comfort in his father's warm embrace. He never wanted this moment- this one pure moment where he felt warm, safe and loved- to end. He had a family again.

"Excuse me," there was a knock at the door and Detective Wong was standing there in a suit holding a yellow legal pad. The man smiled slightly, "Hello Blaine. I'm glad to see you've been reunited with your family. Unfortunately I need to get your full statement as soon as possible so that I can continue my investigation into Jean-Pierre."

Blaine blinked slowly, "Jean-Pierre?"

"The man found in the apartment building along with you and Mr. Hummel," the detective let out a small sigh. "We've identified him via fingerprinting-"

"Is he okay?" Blaine asked, shivering a little.

Detective Wong frowned at him, "I- you don't know? I send a uniformed officer to inform you a few hours ago when I received the news." The man shook his head softly, "I thought it might make you feel a little safer. Blaine- he died on the operating table three hours ago due to a medical allergy."

"You mean it wasn't my fault?"

"Well he wouldn't have-" the detective stopped talking when Joey shook his head, "No Blaine. You were not the direct cause of his death. You collapsed his lung, but if it wasn't for that allergy he would have survived."

"Oh," he wasn't sure how he felt about that. He knew what the detective had been about to say. He'd been about to remind him that if it wasn't for the bullet he'd put in Pierre's chest than he'd never had been administered whatever drug it was he was allergic to.

There was a weird pang in his chest and he pulled his hand from his sister's, curling up into a ball. He wanted to pull away from his father too, but the man just pulled him closer as fresh sobs tore from his chest. He had killed someone. He had caused someone's death.

It had felt right at the time. He'd had to do it. He'd needed to save Kurt, but somehow his heart was still breaking.

"Detective Wong, maybe you should come back later," he dimly heard his brother suggest softly as he curled into himself further and sobbed in his father's arms.

* * *

><p>"Dad?" Kurt wrapped his arms as tightly as he could manage around his father's waist. He was finally being released and his father and step-mother had just managed to make it to New York.<p>

"God Kurt, you're okay?" Burt grasped his son gently, before pulling him back to get a look at him, "You're hurt!"

Kurt winced carefully, not mentioning the pain in his ribs, "It's not as bad as it looks I swear. Blaine- he protected me from the worst of it," he said in a quiet voice, his head turning to look around the hospital waiting room, "Where is he?"

"He's with his family, Sweetie," Carole spoke up, taking Kurt gently into her arms once her husband released him. She stroked over his hair with her hand soothingly, "and the police are taking his statement while he's here."

Kurt swallowed thickly and nodded. "Okay." He paused and licked his lips softly, "Dad, where on earth did you get the money? I thought- I thought for certain-"

"Believe it or not the Andersons lent it to us," Burt shook his head softly. "I called them in a panic because- well they knew how it felt and they gave us the money and told us to get you back. They didn't want to lose you too." He planted a kiss on his son's forehead, "and now they've got Blaine back."

"Except Blaine's different now; he thought that man loved him," Kurt hugged his father again, taking in the comfort he provided.

"He probably had to Kurt," Burt told his son in a quiet voice. "He probably had to in order to survive and stay sane." He paused quietly, "He may think he loved that man, but in the end he loves you more."

Kurt nodded his head quietly, biting down on his lip, "Yeah I guess so."

"I know so," Burt said in a soft tone. "He did what it took to get you out of there safely. He killed for you and I can never thank him enough for that-for protecting my son." He could almost sense the desperation his dad had felt by the way the arms tightened around him again, almost as if he was afraid by letting go he'd be sending his son right back into the thick of it.

However that wasn't what caught his attention the most in the exchange, not by a long shot.

Kurt looked up in surprise, his hands tightening into fists, "He's dead? Please tell me he's dead. I can't- I don't know how Blaine will ever feel safe again if he's not. I don't know how I will either and he- he never hurt me like he did Blaine. I mean he tried- and it was terrifying- Dad, please just tell me he's dead."

Burt's arms squeezed around him a little tighter, but were still gentle of his bruises and cracked ribs. "Yes Kurt. The man that kidnapped you and Blaine died on the operating table a few hours ago. He's never going to be able to get near you or Blaine ever again. It's over now and you're both safe, thank God."

"I don't think it's over Dad," Kurt sighed, trembling a little. "Blaine's- Blaine's spent two years being conditioned and lied to. It's going to take more than a couple of days for him to get over this." He swallowed thickly, "It's going to take me some time too. I thought- I really thought-"

"Kurt?" His father asked in a quiet voice.

"That man raped Blaine you know. He abused him sexually the entire time he had him." Kurt licked his lips nervously, his voice thick with tears. "He- He was about to do the same thing to me when the police showed up. I- I really thought that was it. I knew- I knew if he did he was going to kill me. I don't think- I don't think I'd ever been so scared."

"Kurt…" his father trailed off, looking at a loss for words. "God I wish that man wasn't dead."

"Dad?"

"So I could kill him myself. Sorry, but I'd feel a whole lot better if I'd been the one to do it," Burt growled out, apparently taking in the way he was still shaking against him.

"Not helpful Dad," he mumbled quietly, before breaking from the embrace to look around. "Where's Finn?"

"Gone to get Rachel," his father seemed to calm a little at the change of subject. "She's unwilling to be kept from you any longer. She says she's being harassed by Bradley. Apparently he doesn't believe the story she gave him that I was in the hospital again. Apparently you would still have texted him."

Kurt shook his head, "He just wants to think that."

"What're you going to do about him now?" Burt asked quietly, his eyes peering questioningly at his son. "Anyone can see that you never really got over Blaine and now he's back and you know he's probably not going to be ready for a real relationship for a while."

"I know," Kurt let out a sigh, trying to calm the slight tremble that still refused to leave his body, "but that doesn't mean I won't be there for him. I'm going to be there for him every step of the way Dad, no matter what. I'm- I'm going to need some time too."

Burt clapped a hand on his son's shoulder, "You know whatever you choose I got your back kid. You're a grown man and you've always been mature for your age. I know you'll make the right choice."

"There's no choice Dad. I know what I'm doing," Kurt told him, his voice firm despite his tremors. "There was never any choice. I never had a choice. Bradley's my best friend and I love him _dearly_, but Blaine's my everything. He's my ever after."

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Well there you have it, chapter 19 and a bunch of family reunions. I hope you enjoyed it. Please leave a review!


	20. Chapter 20: Mama

**Summary**: Two years ago Kurt's boyfriend was kidnapped and supposedly murdered. Two years ago Blaine was ripped away and brainwashed into believing his captor loved him. It's two years later and they've been reunited, but it's not everything they imagined it would be.

**Warning**: Non-explicit mentions of non-con. Some violence as well. Also mentions of suicidal thoughts (past mentions). Also in this chapter there's some description of a rape kit being performed, but it's not explicit.

**A/N**: This chapter was incredible difficult for me to write, but in the end I'm actually kind of happy with it. Also parts of Bianca Anderson may be based off my mother, at least the over-usage of calling her grown or nearly grown children 'baby' is based off my mom, haha. Pretty much she's a mix of all the best traits of both of my parents combined.

Also I wanted to clarify that the hiatus isn't going to start until April 10th. I will post that day and then there will be two weeks of hiatus until I post the first chapter of part 2 on April 24th. Basically my hiatus starts when the Glee hiatus ends.

**P.S.** I cried AGAIN when writing this chapter. I keep doing this thing where I break my own heart. This story is pure torture for me, but I love it.

* * *

><p>Chapter 20: Mama<p>

"Mr. and Mrs. Anderson," the doctor stepped into the hospital room looking pensive, "I'm Dr. Fitzgerald; could I speak to you for a moment in the hall?"

Leo looked first at his wife. Bianca looked a little uncomfortable leaving their son, not that he could blame her. Next he looked at his two youngest children, both of them lying on the hospital bed with their hands connected loosely.

Once Blaine had finished getting out his emotions about the man who'd kidnapped him he'd allowed his sister to comfort him again. It was almost a little strange how Brianna had taken an older sister role despite that her brother was actually two years older than her.

Now, sleeping, and with the way Blaine had thinned and remained the same height over the past two years in comparison to the way Brianna had shot up, they looked almost like twins.

"They'll be fine, my love," he threaded his fingers through hers and squeezed lightly. "We'll be able to see them from the hallway. They won't leave our sight."

She nodded her head very briefly and followed Dr. Fitzgerald out into the hallway.

"Mr. and Mrs. Anderson," the doctor greeted them sombrely, "I have to ask if the two of you are aware that your son has refused to let our staff or the police take a rape kit."

"I thought the bastard who kidnapped him died," Leo's head snapped at attention.

"He has," Dr. Fitzgerald's voice was soft, apparently taking into consideration the two teenagers sleeping inside the hospital room. "However the rape kit isn't just about evidence recovery, Mr. Anderson. Part of it is medical. Considering your son's other injuries I do believe it would be in his best interests to allow us to check him for other injuries related to the sexual assaults he suffered. In addition there's the issue of possible sexually transmitted diseases."

"I thought that's what the blood tests were for," Bianca spoke up very quietly, her eyes darting back to her children for a second. "My baby's been through enough already- if he doesn't want the kit-"

"Ma'am, with all due respect and sympathy, by the state of his other injuries it's apparent that the most recent rape your son suffered was particularly brutal. If he were to allow us to take the kit we could check for internal injuries such as rectal tearing. It would also allow us to assess how susceptible he is to infection such as sepsis. These types are things better prevented than allowed to develop and then treated." The doctor explained patiently "I am by no means trying to put your son through more trauma, but it will be much harder for him to recover psychologically if he's not well physically."

"So what is it exactly that you want us to do?" Leo wrapped an arm around his wife gently as he looked at the doctor. "Blaine's an adult now. He has a right to refuse medical treatment-"

"He does," the doctor agreed softly. "My hope is that you and your wife might explain to him why the kit would be in his best interests. It's likely that as family members, people that he loves and trusts, you would have more success in convincing him than any of the hospital staff would."

"I'm not exactly sure how much he trusts us," he took in a deep breath, looking towards where his son was sleeping somewhat fitfully with little twitches and murmurs. "He- I don't think he knows what to believe. I- I can only imagine what that bastard made my boy believe over the past two years. I- do you really think he'd trust anyone that much after what he's been through?"

"I think if anyone can convince him it would be his parents," Dr. Fitzgerald told him with a bit of a weak smile. "Please at least attempt it. It would be for his own good in the end." She checked her watch momentarily, "I have to check in on another patient, please let one of the nurses know if you manage to change his mind." With that said she turned and moved swiftly away from them, her tied back curls swaying as she walked.

Leo looked at his wife, "What do you think, my love?"

"I think Blaine's always been a boy who's sought his father's approval," she leaned her head against his shoulder. "I think if you asked him to- he'd do it."

The man just shook his head and kissed her temple shortly, "You're forgetting one important thing, my love. Blaine has always been closer with you. He may have sought my approval, but he's always known he's had yours. He'll trust you Bee. I think- considering everything our boy's been through- that it would be better if he decided to do it out of trusting you to take care of him, rather than doing it to make me happy."

"Alright," Bianca took in a deep breath, "we should wake up Bri. Maybe you could take her to get something to eat, or check in and see how Joe's doing at the police station. I really thought he'd be back by now."

"Joe's probably talked Detective Wong into letting him see the files. If there's one thing I know about that boy, is he has a way of getting what he wants. Once B.B.'s old enough to turn on the puppy-dog eyes Joey's finally going to know how we've felt all these years." He managed a weak sort of grin. "I'll take Bri to get some lunch or something, or maybe we'll drop in and see how Kurt's doing."

She nodded her head and stepped back into the hospital room with her husband on her heels, before leaning down and carefully shaking her daughter awake. When the girl's eyes fluttered open she whispered very softly, "Brianna sweetie, I need to talk to Blaine alone for a little bit, okay? Let Dad take you for some lunch and hey, who knows, maybe you'll get a chance to peek in at Kurt and see how he's doing. I'm sure he could use some news on how Blaine's doing- and it would be nice to know how he's coping too, don't you think?"

Brianna let out a yawn and carefully slipped off the bed obediently. She stopped for a moment to look at her mother, "Is something wrong- I mean- I know everything's kind of wrong right now- but- well you know what I mean."

"No baby, I just need to talk to Blaine about something," she hugged her daughter briefly, before pushing her gently in Leo's direction. She watched as her daughter frowned, before leaving the room hesitantly. Her husband followed Brianna out of the room, carefully closing the door behind them. It was only then that she sank down in the chair beside the bed and slipped her hand under her son's, squeezing very lightly, "Blaine, time to wake up baby boy."

The boy on the bed gave out a disconcerting murmur but didn't wake up.

She sighed, brushing a strand of hair out of his face, before speaking just a little louder, "Blaine, come on, wake up sweetheart."

The next sound that came from her little boy- he'd always be her little boy no matter his age- was audibly recognized as a whimper of fear.

"Blaine wake up," she raised her voice a little, reaching out to jostle him a little. Almost immediately her son's eyes snapped open and he looked around wildly.

"M-Mom?" His voice was shaky, wavering as if he didn't really believe she was there.

"That's right baby," she squeezed his hand lightly. She moved to brush back another strand of hair, feeling one of the fragmented pieces of her heart break down further when her son flinched at the movement. "Mama's here. I love you so much baby; so much."

"Where- where'd everyone else go?" He asked, his eyes searching a little for the rest of his family.

"Your father took Bri to get something to eat and to find out how Kurt's doing and your brother said he needed to speak to Detective Wong again," she cupped his cheek very gently. "They'll be back though baby. No one's abandoning you. We all love you too much for that."

Blaine visibly relaxed at her statement. "Oh, okay."

"Baby, we're you having a bad dream?" She asked, letting her hand drop from his cheek and fall to where her other hand was holding on to one of his.

He lowered his eyes to his lap, "I just- I thought I was back in my room- the one he kept me in at night- and I couldn't get out."

"Sweetheart-"

"I could hear," Blaine whispered in a small voice. "Mom- it _was_ bad. I- in my dream- I could hear him hurting Kurt and I couldn't do anything and he was begging me to help him-"

"It was just a dream baby," she soothed him, her hand reaching up again to smooth over his shaggy curls. Her mouth tweaked upwards just a little bit, "You desperately need a haircut baby. Maybe that's something we can do before we go home, or if you want I can do it for you when we get home, like we used to do when you were little?"

"I can't," he croaked out in a small voice. "I can't- he likes it long-"

"That doesn't matter anymore Sweetie," she reminded him very gently. "All that matters now is how you like it. You could shave it all off if you want to, but from what I remember, my sweet boy likes his hair short, but he still likes having hair, right?"

The half-smile that found Blaine's face made the whole conversation worth it. "Yeah- maybe- maybe you could cut it when we get home? I- I'd really rather it be you, Mom."

"Then I will do my best," she leaned down to kiss the cheek that didn't have any stitches in the side. She paused for a long moment, "Blaine- I- do you trust me? Do you trust that your mom would never ask you to do something that wasn't what was best for you? Do you trust me to take care of you?"

He looked up at her, his eyes wide and a little wet, "W-why?"

"I need to know before I tell you," she murmured to him very quietly. If her boy wasn't ready to trust her yet, then she knew there was no way she could try to ask this of him. "It's important that you tell me the truth, okay? Don't worry about my feelings. We're focusing on you right now, okay?"

"I- okay?" He still looked confused and a little uncertain. "Mom- I think- I know you'd never hurt me. I know- I know that all you want's for me to be okay. I think- I know- I trust you Mom. I do. You- you never gave up on me. You just- kept loving me. That means everything."

"You sure baby?" She questioned, squeezing his hand lightly once again.

"I- as sure as I can be- I think. Kurt- I thought he was the only one I could trust to love me, but- I know- he told me how you never gave up. You're my mom and you never gave up. Out of everyone, even Kurt, you were the only one who never gave up on me." He swallowed thickly, "I trust you Mama. I do."

"That's good, baby," she smiled weakly, before continuing on in a thick tone. "Now I need you to listen to me carefully, okay? Try- try not to interrupt unless you really need to. Can you do that for me?"

He furrowed his eyebrows a little, but looked up at her with his eyes shining at her, "Okay Mom."

"The doctor had a word with me earlier," she began in a gentle tone. "She's worried because of how hurt you were when you came in that maybe there are some injuries they haven't found yet. She thinks there might be some internal injuries from where that man hurt you. I know you don't want to do it sweetheart, and I hate to have to ask this of you, but if you're hurt they need to know. They need to know to make sure you don't get an infection or get sick. They need to take a look, just to make sure you're not badly hurt. And- and it'll help them find out if that man gave you anything."

Blaine's eyes were suddenly filled to the brim with tears. "Mama- please, I don't want to. I don't want anyone to touch me. It's bad enough that I- that I know- that I remember it and- and I just know the nightmares are going to get worse. Mama- please- don't make me."

"I'm not going to _make_ you do anything," her voice was fervent as she spoke to him. "It's your choice sweetheart. It's your choice. You can say no, I just want you to know that you might be hurt and they can't be sure how to help you unless they know how you're hurt. You can still say no. If you feel that strongly about it, you can say no. I just- I'm worried about you."

"I'm scared Mom," he choked out, his fingers squeezing tightly around hers before he continued in a voice so hoarse that she had to lean closer to hear it, "I'm so scared that if- if I let them do it- if they touch me- it's going to make me remember. It's- I can't forget- but- what if it's like it's all happening again? I don't know if I could take it- now that it's over- if- if it even felt like it might happen again. Mama-"

"I'd be here with you sweetheart," she reassured in a quiet voice. "I wouldn't leave you. I'd be right here to remind you it's over and it's never going to happen again."

"You- you really think I should?" He asked, looking up at her trustingly. His eyes dropped a little and he stared at the opposite wall, "I- it did hurt a lot; more- more than usual."

"Then it sounds like it might be a good idea sweetheart," she had to steel herself against her son's words, but no matter how hard she tried a couple tears still slid down her face. This should have never happened to her little boy, not even once, but here they were and it had happened so many times that there was a usual amount of pain her Blaine was used to going through.

It was all so wrong.

"Okay, if you stay with me, then- then I think I could manage it- if they- they don't take too long," he let out shakily.

She tightened her fingers around his hand briefly, before reaching over and pressing the call button. "It's going to be fine sweetheart. It'll be for the best in the end, you'll see."

He simply swallowed the thick lump in his throat, not sure if he could really agree with her. The words made sense, but everything inside him was screaming not to let anyone touch him like that ever again.

Moments later a nurse stepped into the room and Bianca looked over at the young woman, "My son has reconsidered the sexual assault exam, right honey?"

He just nodded his head, his body stiffening.

"Alright, I'll alert the nurse that handles the exams," the woman gave a gentle smile. "It shouldn't be long." There was a moment where the nurse paused before looking at Blaine, "You're very brave Blaine."

His eyebrows furrowed a little before speaking in a soft, slightly confused voice, "Thank you."

The nurse smiled at him again, "Your welcome," before turning and exiting the room.

"Mom," Bianca looked over at her son's voice, moving to tendering smooth her hand over his hair again. Her eyes met his and she smiled at him encouragingly while she waited for him to continue, "I-I- when are we going home?"

"We're going to let you rest up in the hospital for a couple of days and then we're off," she continued smiling gently.

"There's something I want to do before we go- is that okay?" His voice was tentative and almost immediately after asking it there was a hint of a flinch, as if he expected her to get mad for asking such a small request.

"Of course honey, whatever you want," she assured him softly, before turning as she heard the nurse step in and close the door behind her. She stood up as the nurse walked into the room and started to introduce herself.

"You must be Mrs. Anderson. I met both your boys yesterday," the nurse shook her hand with a sad smile. "It's great to see Blaine here has such a loving and supportive family. I'm Macy and if Blaine is willing I'll be the one to do the sexual assault exam."

"Sweetheart?" She looked over to her son who was biting down on his lower lip nervously.

"Can my mom stay?" He asked as he sniffled lightly.

"That's all up to you Blaine. If you want your mom here than I'm not going to ask her to leave," the nurse told him smoothly. "I will ask your mom to sit up front with you and face you. I'm sure that would be easiest on both of you. You hold her hand and focus on her, okay Blaine, and I'll be sure to give you lots of warning before I do anything so you can tell me to stop if you need to. How does that sound?"

"I- okay, I guess," Blaine murmured to the nurse and Bianca immediately returned to her seat, collecting up her son's hand in her own and giving it a light squeeze as her eyes locked on his.

"Okay first I just need you to move your legs a little for me, alright Blaine?"

She heard shifting behind her, but didn't look back. Instead she just looked her son in the face and spoke to him softly, "You're doing so great sweetheart. Mama's so proud of you. You're so brave baby, so brave."

"Blaine I'm going to use the anal speculum now. It's going to help me take a look and see if you're hurt at all, okay?" The nurse asked very gently, "It's going to go inside you but it shouldn't hurt, it might feel a little uncomfortable though."

Her son screwed up his eyes and just nodded his head.

She rubbed her hands around his, "Hey baby, it's okay. Mama's here. I love you and everything's going to be alright."

A small gasp escaped him and tears started running down his face in thick streams. "Mom- Mom- please don't let him- I don't- Mom-."

"He can't hurt you anymore Sweetie," she reminded him very quietly. "Open your eyes and look at me baby. Look at Mama. Would she let anyone hurt you?"

"But he did hurt me and you weren't there," he choked out suddenly, a loud sob ripping from his throat.

Her heart snapped and she found her eyes spilling tears of their own. She squeezed her hands tight around his, "I'm here now, baby. I'm here now."

"Is it done yet?" Blaine asked, his hoarse voice directed now more at the nurse than at his mother. "Please stop. Stop I can't- it's too much. Get it out. Get it out. Please stop, I can't take anymore."

There was a pause and her son let out a little twitch before the nurse spoke, "Okay Blaine. I've stopped, okay? It's gone. I know that was really hard for you, but you did really well."

There was the sound of the sheets being pulled down and Bianca turned to look at the nurse, her face nervous, "I- he's-."

"Nothing that won't heal on its own," the nurse said in a quiet voice, her eyebrows drawing in together just slightly and her mouth turning down sympathetically. "I managed to take a couple swabs for STD testing so we won't know about that until we get those results and the blood tests back, but I'll ask them to put a rush on it. Physically there are internal bruises that may make moving around difficult or painful for the next little while. Honestly I'm surprised it's not worse considering the other physical injuries."

"So- he'll be okay?" She asked, her eyes flickering to where her son was hugging himself tightly in the hospital bed.

"Physically it seems so," the woman's wording was careful. "The rest may be a little more difficult to overcome, but Blaine's a strong boy- a strong man. With time and support he may be alright. I've seen people come back from some pretty bad situations Mrs. Anderson."

"So you don't know," Bianca summed up in a dull voice. "I think my son and I would like to be alone now. Thank you for- for trying to help." She moved back to the bed and sat down in the chair beside it. She reached out for her son's hand but he inched it away. "Baby I'm sorry. I know you didn't want to go through that-"

"Then why'd you ask me too?" He asked in a scratchy tone, sniffling.

"We needed to make sure you weren't hurt," she let her hands fall into her lap limply. "I only want what's best for you Sweetheart. I love you so much."

His hand inched back towards her on the bed and she hesitantly reached to grasp it, feeling relieved when her youngest son didn't pull it away from her again, "I love you too Mom. I just- I wish it was over. I don't want to remember anymore."

"I know baby," she reached to brush his hair back since it had fallen into his eyes yet again. "We'll go home and it'll get better, you'll see. It'll get better."

"No it won't Mom. We'll go back to Ohio and Kurt'll stay here and I need him. I need him Mama. He thinks I saved him but he saved me Mom. I need him so bad. I need him with me but I can't ask him to go back- New York's what he's always wanted."

"You're what he's always wanted Sweetheart," she leaned forward to press a soft kiss to his cheek. "You know that whatever happens, Kurt will still be there for you. We'll let you visit him whenever you want- maybe not alone but we'll figure it out. Or we'll pay so he can come back to Ohio to visit whenever he wants. It'll be okay baby, you'll see."

"Mom?"

"Yes Sweetheart?"

"How am I supposed to go home?" He asked her, sounding a little nervous and genuinely curious. "I don't have any clothes. They- they're probably all evidence and Pierre bought them for me and I don't think I ever want to wear them again."

"We'll go out and buy you some," she promised him gently. "We'll see if Kurt or Mr. or Mrs. Hummel can sit with you while we're gone and we'll go get you some nice new clothes."

"Just Kurt," he whispered in a quiet voice. "I just want Kurt. Burt might be mad at me. I got Kurt in trouble. I got him hurt."

"No baby, you saved him. That man thinks you're a hero Blaine. I think you're a hero too-"

"Please Mama, I just want Kurt."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Poor Blainers. Sometimes I hate myself for the amount of pain I put him through in this story. My joke about Klaine is that Blaine's name rhymes with pain and Kurt's with hurt and that MUST be why I have to write angsty stuff involving them. Just call me insane... and leave me a review! Thanks.


	21. Chapter 21: JeanPierre LaMontone

**Summary**: Two years ago Kurt's boyfriend was kidnapped and supposedly murdered. Two years ago Blaine was ripped away and brainwashed into believing his captor loved him. It's two years later and they've been reunited, but it's not everything they imagined it would be.

**Warning**: Non-explicit mentions of non-con. Some violence as well. Also mentions of suicidal thoughts (past mentions).

**A/N: **Sorry no Klaine reunion quite yet but I promise there is one in the next chapter and it's very emotional. I'm also really sorry if this chapter isn't edited as well as some of the previous ones. I've been going through some stuff so I haven't had as much time to go through it as before. Pretty much I need the Glee hiatus to be over because honestly when times are tough the show is how I escape real life for a little while. That or I'm just homesick.

By the way I know in real life that there's probably little to no way that a detective would let a family member of the victim observe taking witness statements in the field, but bear with me. I'm taking a few liberties with this story for the sake of the plot.

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><p>Chapter 21: Jean-Pierre LaMontone<p>

"Detective Wong?" Joey stepped up to the detective's desk, "I was hoping I could have a word with you."

"Joey," the detective nodded at him quietly, "I was wondering when you'd show up. I assume you want to take a look at your brother's statement."

"It'd be easier on him than making him rehash it all again, so yes," Joey took in a deep breath. "I know it's not going to be easy, but I need to know."

"I made a copy of the file. I figured you'd want everything on his assailant as well," the detective picked up a folder and passed it over. "You can use my partner's desk if you like. She's out with a flu bug and her desk is empty for the time being." He motioned to the desk across from his. "I warn you- some of the things in there are going to be hard to read. They were hard for me to hear and he's not my little brother."

"I can handle it," Joey sank into the woman's desk, taking in for a moment a photo of a pretty brunette woman with two little boys with the same eyes but sandy hair. Carefully his fingers flicked open the file and he found the name.

Jean-Pierre LaMontone was a registered sex offender. His eyes flickered to the date of the man's release and his stomach was immediately sickened. The man had been released a mere month before Blaine's kidnapping.

How had his superiors in the local police force not put two and two together? His eyes looked a little closer at the file. Jean-Pierre had been released from a prison in Cleveland, but that was no excuse, not in his books- not when it was his brother who'd suffered.

The man had been in prison for eight years after serving his full sentence for aggravated rape and sodomy charges against a female college student. He'd done this before- minus the kidnapping- and still somehow they hadn't pieced together that the missing boy in Lima might have been taken by this man. They were probably too focussed on the fact the previous victim had been female while his brother was male.

Two different genders and suddenly the police had assumed there were two different attackers. If it hadn't been his brother he might have understood. The way each crime was committed was so different, but it _was his_ brother and suddenly the mistake was unforgiveable.

Being caught was probably what drove Pierre to kidnap Blaine in the first place. It was a preventative measure so he wouldn't get caught again. A victim in captivity couldn't report a rape any more than a dead one could.

He swiped at his face angrily, pretending that no wetness had found the backs of his hands when he did.

Jean-Pierre LaMontone had a little brother too. There was a listing for a man named Marc LaMontone who had a couple of petty arrests for larceny and dropped charge for peeking into the girl's locker room at William McKinley High School. Despite the dropped the charges the man had still lost his job, thank God.

He fought back the urge to vomit when he saw the picture. He'd arrested that man himself for the peeping Tom charge. He even remembered the odd way the man smirked at him when he'd hauled the janitor from the school a year before.

He pressed a hand tight to his mouth. He'd assumed at the time that the man had peeked at his sister and had to shove him off to another officer before he was tempted to punch him in the face. It hadn't been about Brianna. It never had been.

Marc LaMontone had known about Blaine; had known and smirked at him.

He picked up the phone at the desk and dialled the number to his own precinct. "This is Officer Joseph Anderson speaking," he choked into the phone, "I need someone to go pick up Marc LaMontone for questioning for an accessory to kidnapping charge. I need him held until I get back there. Can you do that?"

"Joe, it's Camilla," he heard the familiar officer say back to him. "I can get Officer Blackler to pick him up, but I need to know what this is about."

"I have reason to believe he had something to do with my brother's kidnapping two years ago. I know I can't be the one to question him, but I need to be in the viewing room and you need the information in the file here in New York." Joey spoke the words quickly, biting down on his lower lip. "His brother kidnapped mine and it's a little too convenient that he worked at a school my brother was known to spend time at."

"Joey you know we can only hold him for so long without having enough evidence to actually lay charges-"

"Then put him under surveillance. Do something. His brother's dead and my wife and son are still in Lima, Camilla. If he decides to take some kind of revenge-"

"I'm on it Joe," she told him quietly. "I'll see you in a few days."

"Okay," he hung up the phone and sighed; ignoring the odd look Detective Wong was giving him and turned back to the file, specifically his brother's statement.

_I was walking home from work. I missed the bus and couldn't find a ride._ His eyes misted again. His brother hadn't mentioned at all that he, Joey, had been the one who'd refused to give him a ride home. He swallowed down the lump in his throat and read on about how a man, someone other than Jean-Pierre, had accosted him in an alleyway and threatened him with a gun.

He forced himself to read on about how Blaine had been forced to watch Jean-Pierre murder the man named Cal who'd wanted to let him go- who hadn't known Jean-Pierre's real intentions. He couldn't make himself feel bad for Cal's death even if he'd tried to help Blaine. That man had put his brother in that situation- had abducted him and basically handed him over to the man that would rape him.

Then there was the escape attempt- how his brother had bravely run from the house still bound only to be dragged back in. He couldn't fight the tears that slid down his face as he read the dreaded details about how Jean-Pierre had grabbed his brother by the ankles, kicked and beat him up before flipping him over and raping him for the first time. Instead they fell freely down his face.

God, his little brother- he'd only been sixteen.

He read on, taking in the words on the page; the second rape, the phone calls, realizing Pierre –as his brother referred to him- was planning on keeping him and how his brother had for a moment thought it was worse than death.

He read about the almost daily rapes, the conditioning, the way the man had constantly told Blaine he was unloved and unwanted and about the murder of the woman named Claire; how Blaine was terrified that Pierre might have raped her before he woke up because her clothes had been rumpled.

He read until he reached the part where Blaine finally snapped and realized Pierre had lied to him and shot him- shot him to protect Kurt, because he knew Kurt was the one who really loved him.

Raising a hand he wiped his face and reached for one of the Kleenex's that were on the woman's desk and used it to dry his eyes.

"You alright there Joe?" Detective Wong asked him in a gentle voice. "I know that must have been a tough read."

"I underestimated him," Joey breathed out hoarsely. "I never knew he was so tough. I-I don't know how he did all that- survived all that. God- my brother-"

"I'm about to go question LaMontone's neighbours in the building where we found your brother," the detective changed the subject in a soft voice. "If you promise not to yell at them and let me ask all the questions I'll let you come observe. My partner's not here so I'm going to need backup in any case."

Joey nodded his head. He'd gotten a text telling him the rest of his family was currently shopping for a few things for his brother and that Blaine wanted some time with Kurt, so he had nowhere else to be. Plus if he thought about it he did want to see what those neighbours had to say for themselves. Why on Earth hadn't they called the cops considering how in Blaine's statement he'd written that he'd called out in pain on several occasions? "Thank you. I would very much like to observe."

* * *

><p>Blaine wasn't supposed to be alone. He had the guard at his door although he wasn't sure why since Pierre was supposed to be dead, but otherwise he was alone. His mother- she'd told him that Kurt would only be a few minutes; that he just had to fill out a little paperwork for his release from the hospital. Then she'd left to meet up with his dad and sister.<p>

He didn't like this- being alone with his thoughts in the private room.

When the uniformed guard entered his room Blaine looked at him in confusion, shrinking in the hospital bed. "Wh-what's going on?"

"Now that Jean-Pierre LaMontone has been declared dead there are some precautions that we have to take," the police officer spoke and Blaine frowned shakily. That didn't make any sense. If Pierre was dead didn't that mean he didn't need a guard anymore?

The man was removing a set of handcuffs from his belt, "Sorry kid," he didn't sound sorry, "but until the shooting is cleared…" the man shrugged his shoulders at him.

He flinched backward, pulling his arm away when the officer grabbed his wrist and pulled it towards the railing of the hospital bed, squeezing over the still swollen bruises. "Please you're hurting me-"

"Yeah well you killed a man kid, so suck it up," a metal shackle was snapped around his wrist before the other end snapped around the bed's railing.

"Please," he tugged desperately at the binding as suddenly he could see Pierre standing at the end of his bed instead of the guard. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry-"

The man didn't speak; instead he just smirked, coming closer to the bed.

"No, no, please. Pierre, I'm sorry-"

Pierre just kept coming closer and he had nowhere to go; no escape. He was trapped by the metal encircling his wrist and he pulled at it hard, hoping that by some fluke of fate that the handcuffs would give way.

Blaine sobbed desperately in the hospital bed. The guard watching him just stared for a moment, before walking back to his post by the door. The kid had to be crazy- he was talking to a dead man in an empty room after all.

He probably needed to be restrained, he thought to himself with one more backward glance. There was no point letting the kid wander around the hospital, especially if he was capable of killing.

* * *

><p>The first neighbour that opened the door was a fifty-ish year old man with a small bulging beer belly poking out from underneath his t-shirt. The man scratched his bald head as he took in the two officers, "I was wondering when you'd get to me. I heard the little faggot across the hall finally snapped-"<p>

"I'd watch your language Sir," Detective Wong spoke up, his hand flexing to hold Joey back when he gave a little jerk as if to hit the pale overweight man in front of him. "However, yes we are here to speak to you about the shooting that took place here yesterday. What can you tell us about your neighbours?"

"Can't tell you much about the younger one," the man shrugged his shoulders. "I didn't see him around much. Heard him though- all the time; always whining and screaming about something."

"Mister…" Wong started, leaving room for the man to fill in his name.

"Gravure," the man supplied easily.

"Did you ever think to call the police?" Wong asked, a little in awe at how well Joey was holding himself together during the course of the questioning.

"Well no. I didn't want to get involved," the man gave off a loud yawn. "I figure if the guy was beating his boyfriend it wasn't any of my business. It was more of a nuisance than anything. I can't say I'm sad they won't be living across the way anymore."

"So every day for two years you heard a man in his thirties beat on and sexually abuse a kid and didn't do anything to stop it?" Joey spoke up, his voice dangerously low.

"I didn't know he was a kid," the man looked a little chagrined. "I only saw him a couple of times and from a distance. I thought he was like twenty or something." There was a pause, "Still the kid should have known better than to get involved with an older man- or a man at all. If he found a nice girl he wouldn't have had to worry about-"

"That kid didn't _get involved_ with an older man," Joey snapped, ignoring the pointed looks Wong was shooting his way. "He was a kidnapping victim and you allowed that man to beat and rape him for two years because of your ignorance-"

The man gave him a blank look, staring for a long moment. "Geez- damn- I didn't know. You can't blame me for not knowing. I thought they were just some angry gay men. If I had known I would have called you guys for sure. Damn- poor kid. I just thought he was gay- you know-"

"So a gay kid would deserve it?" Joey asked, his voice growing ever darker.

"Anderson-" Wong placed a hand on his arm, "remember our agreement."

"Screw it," Joey's fists clenched tightly, his nails digging into the palms of his hands. He turned back to the man standing in the doorway. "You let an innocent teen be raped for years because you thought because he's gay he deserves it- is that it? Is that why you let some goddamn pedophile abuse a _kid _for two years? You're one screwed up piece of shit-"

"Look Officer I'm sorry about the kid-" the man started to stutter a little in response to his anger.

"Because of you he suffered two years longer than he had to!" Joey growled, taking a step forward, but letting Wong's outreaching arm stop him.

"I-I'm sorry officer. I didn't know. I just thought they were fighting. I don't know anything about those kinds of relationships. I figured it was just an angry couple and that the kid could give as good as he got- I didn't realize," the man shook his head. "I'm sure- the kid will be alright. He's young right? He's got tons of time to recover and settle down with a nice, understanding girl-"

"I'll need you to come down to the station later to give your statement," Wong cut into the conversation, seeing clearly the way Joey's eyes were filling with rage. "Thank you for your co-operation Mr. Gravure. I'll be in touch."

A hand was on Joey's arm and yanking him down the hall as the man shut his door. "You have to get a handle on yourself. We had a deal Joey. You're out of your jurisdiction, so if I decide you need to go back to the hospital or should sit out at the station- I can do that. Calm down and you can stay, but another outburst like that and we're going to have a problem."

"I'm fine. I can be calm," Joey spoke after a long moment of forcing down his anger.

"Remember, these are witnesses."

"I know," he sighed out some of the anger. "Let's just get on with this." He moved over to the door that stood just down the hall from the apartment his brother was found in. Whoever lived here would have shared a wall with the apartment Blaine was kept in.

If the neighbour across the hall had heard yelling, then it was obvious that the next door neighbour would have too. He wondered what their excuse was.

When Wong knocked at the door a tired looking young woman answered the door, a babe in her arms that looked like she was maybe a year old, maybe a little older. "Hello, I'm Detective Wong, NYPD. This is my associate Officer Anderson. Could we ask you a few questions about your next door neighbour?"

The woman's lips pressed together and she opened the door a little wider. "I- of course. Come on in." She motioned them both inside and gestured to a worn looking couch that sat in the living room. "Make yourselves at home- can I get you anything?"

"We're fine," Wong answered for the both of them.

"I'm Lydia Collier," she introduced herself, shuffling the little girl in her arms; "This is my daughter Amber." She sank herself down in the armchair across the couch, "What- what would you like to know?"

"We need to know about your neighbour-"

Her face tightened, "I expect you mean Pierre and not Meredith." Her hand gently brushed her daughter's dirty blond hair behind her little ears. "He- well I'm glad he's dead, if that helps you at all. Good on that kid for finally doing the world a favour-"

"Mrs. Collier-"

"It's Miss Collier," she corrected, her voice bitter. "I'm a single mother." She bounced Amber a little, "Pierre- he was Amber's biological father. First thing when he moved in I thought I'd do the neighbourly thing and introduce myself. He pulled a gun on me and made me take him into my bedroom and well- you can guess what happened after that. He told me if I reported it- reported anything he'd come back and kill me."

Wong was scribbling the information down in a little notebook and Joey took the chance to speak, "I'm very sorry that happened, Miss Collier. However- we have to ask you if you know anything about my- the other tenant living in that apartment."

"I wouldn't have called him a tenant," her face coloured and she lowered her eyes. "Officer Anderson I shared a wall with those two. There's no way that kid was anything other than a prisoner. I- I kept wishing I could do something- but despite her father I love my daughter and Pierre made it clear to me that in no uncertain terms he'd be willing to kill me and my little girl if I even thought about reporting anything I overheard from his apartment."

"Miss Collier," Wong's voice was soft. "I understand that must have been a very difficult situation you found yourself in-"

"Really, because you can't understand how much I hate myself Detective," her face was set even more tightly. "Every day I made myself wonder what that poor boy's mother was going through and how if it was my little girl I'd hate anyone who didn't do whatever it took to make her safe again but I just stood by and let it all happen."

"They thought he was dead-" Joey spoke up quietly.

"I'm sorry?" The woman looked over at him.

"His family thought he was dead," Joey elaborated in a quiet voice.

"Oh," she held the young toddler a little tighter. "I overheard some conversations between them- at least I heard Pierre yelling at the boy and I heard the boy begging to be allowed to go home. Sometimes I would write things down in a notebook- in case- in case I ever got the courage to go the police or the boy escaped for some extra proof. I- I recorded some of the conversations too."

"Would you mind letting us have those?" Wong asked.

"Oh uh, sure," she smiled weakly, getting up and moving the coffee table right next to the couch. She set down the toddler on her feet and dug through the drawer before pulling out a notebook and a voice recorder. Carefully she opened the recorder and slipped out a small SD card before handing it and the notebook to the detective. "I figured it was the least I could do."

"Well you certainly could have done more," the murmur was under his breath, but the woman still heard him.

"Officer Anderson do you have a child?" She asked, picking up her daughter again and settling the silent little girl on her hip, her eyes finding his wedding ring.

"I have a young son, five months old. His name is Blaine," Joey spoke tightly. "I understand where you're coming from Miss Collier. You'd do anything for your child. I understand the feeling, but I still can't ignore that another child had to suffer two years of sexual abuse because of the lack of action taken by the people in this building."

Miss Collier frowned, "The boy- the one from next door. His name's Blaine too-"

"Yes," Joey cut her off shortly. "I named my son after the brother I thought was dead- the same boy that you let be raped for two years."

"I'm sorry, but I was scared for my baby-"

"Miss Collier you'll have to excuse my colleague," Wong spoke up in a pointed voice, sending a look at Joey. "He's a bit emotional about his brother's ordeal. Obviously we understand that you were under great duress during this time considering what you went through and your fear for your child. Under the circumstances, providing us with the evidence we need to clear the shooting is more than we'd expected." There was a pause, "Did you hear any of the conversations that preceded the shooting?"

"Oh I heard all of it," she nodded her head, sniffling a little bit. "Pierre was about to kill Blaine's friend- I think they called him Kurt or Kirk- and Blaine snapped. He just wanted that man to leave them alone, but by the sounds of it Pierre didn't think Blaine was capable of stopping him and was about to break the other boy's neck- at least that what he threatened to do. That's when I heard the shot."

"He snapped-"

"Out of whatever delusion Pierre had forced on him," the woman clarified in a quiet voice. "Every time I saw that poor kid he looked so defeated but he'd have this weird devotion in his eyes, at least he did during the past several months." She shook her head sadly and took in a soft breath as her eyes focussed on Joey, "I'm not sad Pierre's dead. I've felt like I've been living in a prison these past two years. I know it doesn't compare to what your brother went through, but that's how it felt. I couldn't move because he threatened to find and kill me if I did. I couldn't tell anyone. I had to go about my life like everything was normal even though I knew I was living next door to a psychopath and his victim. I know you think I could and should have done something more and maybe looking back on it I could have, but I felt helpless and trapped; like there was nothing I could do. I was his victim too."

He stared at the woman for a long moment. "I'm sorry for what you went through," he said in a slow voice, "Th-thank you for the evidence to clear my brother once and for all. I don't think they were ever going to charge him with anything, but this just makes sure everyone knows that he did what he had to. I guess that's something."

Her face twitched into an uncomfortable frown, before she asked in a thick voice, "They did tests for STDs, right?"

"Pardon me?"

"Well it's just," she averted her eyes to the floor for a moment as her face coloured slightly before rising them up to meet his, "make sure they do."

"Miss Collier-"

"It's- he gave me chlamydia."

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: So now some light has been shed on why the neighbours didn't call the cops, at least partially and Blaine will be cleared thanks to the evidence Lydia gave to Joey and Detective Wong!

Does anyone remember in the first chapter where I said this wouldn't be a very long story? Apparently I was wrong. This story has really taken off beyond what I expected, mostly because I can't just leave Blaine in the state he's in now. That would just be mean.

Anyways, please leave me a review.


	22. Chapter 22: All We Are

**Summary**: Two years ago Kurt's boyfriend was kidnapped and supposedly murdered. Two years ago Blaine was ripped away and brainwashed into believing his captor loved him. It's two years later and they've been reunited, but it's not everything they imagined it would be.

**Warning**: Non-explicit mentions of non-con. Some violence as well. Also mentions of suicidal thoughts (past mentions).

**A/N:** Is anyone else super excited for Glee tonight? Well good for you because my new place doesn't have cable, haha. I have to suffer until it comes out on iTunes. Literally I'm going to have to avoid the internet after 8pm to avoid spoilers; twitter especially.

This author's note was going to start out sad because I lost my job three days ago (hockey season's over!) but I just got hired for the summer at an even better job and my old boss called to say he wants me back in August so I'm not upset anymore. :P

* * *

><p>Chapter 22: All We Are<p>

Marla Fitzgerald stepped into her patient's room and immediately when she saw the way the poor boy was crying and why she whirled around to address the guard stationed at his door primly, "Excuse me Officer, could you explain to me why my patient is handcuffed?"

"The man he shot died," the officer explained in an even voice, "it's a precaution until there's evidence that clears the shooting definitively as defensive."

"Your _precaution_ is detrimental to my patient's mental health," her hand pointed through the door, "Do you not see that? He's distraught."

The officer's eyes flickered into the room momentarily, "That's unfortunate but it's required to protect the community in the case that the shooting is ruled a homicide."

She looked at him incredulously, "There's no way that shooting would be ruled a homicide. There's definitive proof that my patient was raped and there was DNA found on one of the test swabs my nurse took during the part of the rape kit the patient was able to allow. I'm sure once those test results come back it will prove that his assailant was the man he shot." She looked at the chart in her hands for a second, before looking back up at him, "I have to request that you remove those restraints. They're pointless."

"I have to deny your request until I receive orders from my superiors," the officer spoke impassively.

"Where are his parents?" She asked, taking another look in the room where her patient was trembling and pulling at his wrist.

The officer shrugged his shoulders, "My job is not to keep track of this man's family members, Doctor."

She took in a deep breath, trying to control her frustration. "I don't know why you insist on treating my patient like a suspect, but you need to take a moment to remember that this _boy_ is the victim in this case. Now if you'll excuse me I'm wasting my valuable time speaking to you since obviously you can't comprehend that fact," she whirled back around and stepped into the hospital room.

Immediately she put on her most patient smile, "Hello Blaine."

The boy looked up at her with wide eyes and his jaw trembled, "Cl-Claire? You have to go. He's going to kill you."

"No I'm Dr. Fitzgerald, remember Blaine? I'm your doctor." She sat down in the chair next to his bed, "I have some news for you, but first could you tell me where your family is?"

"But- Pierre-" Blaine whispered shakily, "He was here."

She frowned. "The only people the guard is to allow into you room are your family, the hospital staff and by your family's request the Hudson-Hummel family. There's no way a man named Pierre was in your room."

"You don't understand. He has ways," her patient was breathing heavily and his eyes were wild.

"Blaine," she took in another deep breath. She really hoped the Andersons got that so-called 'guard' fired. It was obvious that the restraints had somehow regressed her patient into thinking that he was still in danger. "I need you to look around for me. Do you see anyone else in the room?"

The boy's eyes looked around before he warily shook his head.

"So you're safe now," she reminded him. "Can you tell me where your family went?"

"To g-get me clothes," he spoke cautiously, as if he wasn't really sure. "My- my brother went to the police station, I think. Kurt- Kurt's supposed to come, but he had to fill out some paperwork first- that's what my mom said."

She nodded her head. "I'll track him down when we're done here so he can sit with you. There was an emergency case so it may just be that his paperwork's been delayed by lack of available staff." Her eyes moved down to his wrist, "You've really done a number on your wrist Blaine. Would you let me bandage that for you? I'd usually leave that for a nurse, but I have some news for you as well about the results of your STI testing. I can wait for your family to return though to give you the news if you'd like."

"I need to know now," he murmured, sounding a little more in reality. At the very least he was no longer looking around wildly for the man named Pierre.

Carefully she pushed up the metal restraint on his wrist and made a small disapproving cluck at the skin that had worn away from his wrist turning it raw and a little bloody. She pulled a small roll of gauze from her white coat and a small tube of disinfecting ointment that she kept on hand for some of the more minor injuries she often saw on children that were being too rambunctious in the waiting room.

"I need you to stay still for me," she told him in a soft voice, carefully slipping a glove onto her hand and squeezing a little of the clear ointment onto her covered finger. She rubbed it very gently onto the boy's bloodied wrist. "Now I'm afraid some of the news I have for you isn't very good. There is some good news, but what I have to tell you is going to be upsetting."

The kid turned his head away from her, "After everything else I think I can handle something merely being _upsetting_."

She carefully wound of some the gauze around his wrist, before securing it in place with a little bit of medical tape. "It's about your test results."

Blaine's head turned to face her and she saw him chew on his lower lip. "What- what'd he give me? Am- is it bad?" She heard the little bitter sob escape his throat, "I don't have AIDS or something do I? God wouldn't it be just perfect if he found a way to kill me from beyond the grave?"

"You're not going to die," she said softly, feeling her usual walls start to break down as she looked at the traumatized patient lying in the hospital bed. She was protective of her patients, but it wasn't often that she let herself _feel_ for them. "As of today your HIV/AIDS screening was negative and considering the timeframe of the abuse it's unlikely to develop it unless your attacker contracted it recently. It would be best that you be rescreened both three and six months from now because of that possibility, but in all likelihood that's not going to be an issue for you. What you have now is treatable with a dose of antibiotics. What's unfortunate is because we don't know how long you've had it we're not sure if it's affected your reproductive organs. There have been cases when STIs like this are left untreated that they cause fertility problems."

"I think considering the fact I'm gay it would be pretty hard for me to get a girl pregnant anyway," he spoke bitterly although his voice was still so quiet that she could barely hear it. Somehow despite his words she could see it. The news was starting to break her patient down.

Where was this Kurt character? It was obvious that with his family gone to pick up supplies for him that Blaine desperately needed someone there with him to keep him calm and grounded.

"Regardless news like this can be very difficult to hear-"

"What it is?"

She told him. "The testing came back positive for chlamydia. I'll be prescribing you an antibiotic to take care of it. We can administer the beginning doses here in the hospital, however once you're released your parents will have to fill out the prescription at the pharmacy."

"Chlamydia," he whispered, his jaw shaking and she saw the tears slip back into his eyes. "I have chlamydia?"

She nodded her head sadly, "It's very treatable. It'll be gone in no time."

"Chlamydia," he repeated, his voice breaking down even more.

"Blaine, would you like me to send an orderly to find Kurt for you?" She asked, taking a second to check her watch. She hated to leave him like that, but she had other patients who needed her help just as much as he did.

His eyes slid back down to the metal on his wrist, "It's never going to be over, is it? He's always going to have a part of me."

"I'll have someone page Kurt for you and send him here," she murmured, hating herself as little as she forced herself to leave the hospital room. Had she stayed another minute she'd see the boy's eyes go glassy again in fear.

She didn't know it, but in Blaine's mind Pierre had come back yet again.

* * *

><p>He really had to learn to expect the unexpected. When he walked into the hospital room where a police officer stood guard (although he wasn't sure why, Pierre was dead after all) he expected to see Blaine lying in bed, not exactly happy, but at the very least relieved to have been reunited with his family and most of all <em>free.<em>

Except the boy lying in the hospital bed was alone and he certainly wasn't free; not really. He was a sobbing shaking mess and staring hard on his right wrist wordlessly.

"Blaine honey, what's wrong?"

His vision practically turned red when he saw the metal bracelet of handcuffs binding Blaine's arm over a wrapping of gauze to the bed railing and he whirled around, stomping towards the police officer. "What the hell is that?" He pointed roughly at Blaine. "Why the hell is he handcuffed? Does his family know about this?"

"Calm down Sir," the officer looked down at him, his eyes flashing slightly. "It's just a precaution until it can be proved the shooting was in self-defence."

"Have you not seen him? Seen me? Look at us!" Kurt gestured to his own face. "Look what that man did to me! He was about to kill me. I already gave my statement to the police so you dickheads know that."

"We're waiting on conclusive evidence," the officer's voice was abrupt and cold. "Until such a time as we have said evidence, it's in the community's best interest for the suspect to remain restrained."

"_Suspect?"_ Heat was filling up his face even faster. "He's not a Goddamn suspect. He's the _victim_. God, do you have any idea how often he's been 'restrained' in the past two years and what that man did to him while he was?" He shook his head wildly. "That man kidnapped him, killed two people in front of him and held him captive while he beat and raped him for two years; even if that bastard wasn't trying to kill me Blaine would have been perfectly justified pulling that trigger. He was a captive fighting for his safety and his freedom, what part of that don't you Neanderthals get?"

"Excuse me, what _is_ going on here?" A man's voice interrupted and Kurt turned his head, sighing thankfully when he saw the kind detective he'd given his statement too earlier.

"Why is Blaine handcuffed? He didn't do anything _wrong_," Kurt raised his voice again, hating the way it wavered slightly. "He was just trying to protect me."

"Handcuffed?" Detective Wong looked perplexed at first, then enraged. The man levelled a glare at the uniformed officer, "You're dismissed, go."

"I was told-"

"I will be having a word with your superior as well, now leave!" The detective looked back at Kurt, "I'm sorry about that Mr. Hummel."

"Just get the handcuffs off him, please," Kurt murmured, before turning on his heels again and rushing to Blaine's side. The other boy was still pulling on the handcuffs desperately, murmuring under his breath.

It took him a minute to realize what Blaine was whispering. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"No I'm sorry," Kurt stopped his mutterings as Wong carefully unlocked the metal bracelets. Kurt took Blaine's wrist immediately, kissing the spot just below where the gauze was wrapped around it tenderly. "I should have come checked on you sooner."

"Kurt you have to run. He's back. They said he's dead but he's not. Kurt he was just here," Blaine's eyes rose to look at him, deep, muddy and troubled. "You-you have to save yourself-"

"Pierre _is_ dead," Kurt told him in a slow, deliberate voice. "Whatever you saw was just a memory Blaine- a very vivid flashback. It wasn't real. This is real. You're safe now."

"Don't let them tie me down Kurt," Blaine murmured his voice faltering and much too quiet. "I won't run I swear. I'm sorry, I won't run. Please- please don't-"

"Blaine honey, no one's going to hurt you anymore," Kurt reassured, taken aback at the way Blaine was falling apart. He'd never seen the other boy look so shattered, not even right after Pierre had raped him.

The detective looked at him curiously.

"He- He told me that one time when he tried to run," Kurt swallowed the lump in his throat thickly, "that Pierre- the man who kidnapped us- kept him tied to the bed for a month."

The man's jaw tightened and he nodded.

"He's not going to be in trouble, right?" Kurt asked softly as he carefully manoeuvred his way onto the bed with Blaine and drew the other boy close to him despite the other man's presence. The detective had already proved pretty understanding and open minded and nothing was going to get in the way of being for Blaine when he needed him. "He was just trying to protect me."

"Our investigation supports that," the detective answered in a quiet tone. "There shouldn't be any reason that the shooting won't be cleared as defensive."

Kurt nodded before turning his attention back to Blaine, whose fingers were clutching desperately at his shirt. "It's okay honey. It's okay now. He can't hurt you anymore." Blaine just clutched him tighter, apparently unable to form words.

He looked up at the agent, "What's- it was never this bad before. Why is he- why's he-" he shook his head, at a loss for words himself. He couldn't fathom why now that Blaine was free and safe that the other boy was breaking down.

"Kurt," Detective Wong used his first name for the first time. "What you need to understand is for two years Blaine had to hold himself together in order to stay alive. He didn't have the opportunity to process everything because he was too busy surviving. Now-"

"Now everything's crumbling in at once," Kurt finished, running his hand tenderly over Blaine's hair as the other boy buried his face in his chest.

"Most probably, but at least he has a great support system to help him through it. Not everyone gets that." The detective gave a weak smile as he stood and took a few steps towards the door. "I really just came by to check on him. I'm glad I did. His brother will be back soon. Joey had to make a few more calls at the station. I'm sure the rest of his family will be back shortly as well. This won't happen again."

He nodded his head, "It better not," and looked away from the detective, focussing his attention solely on the boy curled into his side. "Blaine honey, can you talk to me, please?"

"Where were you?" The words slipped out hoarse and quiet. "My mom said you'd be like five minutes and you just- you weren't- I needed you."

"Honey I'm sorry," his heart tightened in a vice grip. Blaine had _needed_ him. "There was a big car accident and there was no one available so I had to wait an extra hour to get things sorted out and released and there was no one to tell me where you were. I told them you needed me. I _told_ them, but they were busy. Honey-"

"Just hold me, Kurt," Blaine managed to choke out the words. "I need someone to hold me."

"I'm here now and I've got you," he soothed, clutching Blaine close to him. "I'm here Honey."

"I'm really here right? He's really gone? It- it wasn't just a dream?" Blaine whispered in a shaky voice, his body quivering slightly.

"You're really here," Kurt reassured, giving him a gentle squeeze to prove it. "I'm here with you and he's gone. He's gone where he can never hurt you or anyone else ever again." He paused for a moment, "You know I wouldn't lie to you right?"

Blaine nodded his head minutely against his chest.

"Then you know he's really gone. This is all real Blaine. You're okay now."

Blaine shook his head, shaking even more than before. "I'm not okay Kurt. I'm not."

"You will be-"

"They said he gave me chlamydia," Blaine choked out and Kurt's arms tightened at the words. "I'm disgusting. I'm _tainted _Kurt. I'm tainted. I'm spoiled. I'm dirty- God I let him sleep with me for two years-"

"Don't you dare say those things," Kurt whispered at him fiercely. "You didn't _let _him do anything. He forced you and you didn't have a choice. You're not disgusting. You're not tainted or any of those things. You're beautiful and strong. You're just- you're hurt that's all."

"Didn't you hear me? I have chlamydia-"

"Which isn't your fault," Kurt reminded him, his own voice tightening with pain. "He raped you Blaine. By its very definition that means it wasn't your fault." He shook his head, before leaning down and kissing the top of Blaine's. "What he gave you is treatable. They'll fix it. It'll be okay. I know it's going to take time honey, but you _will be_ okay."

"She said I might not be able to have kids and that I might be sterile because I couldn't get it treated fast enough."

"Those are things to worry about in the future, honey, not now. And- and we're both men Blaine. If we ever decide to have kids we can use my stuff or we can adopt," the words slipped from his mouth easily and Blaine stopped shaking for a moment to look up at him with widened eyes. He stared down at Blaine's curious and slightly incredulous expression, "What?"

"You said 'we'," Blaine mumbled out quickly. "You- you still want me? You still want to be with me, even after- after everything?"

"I've always wanted to be with you," Kurt's voice was fierce again. "There's never been anyone I wanted more than you. You're 'it' for me Blaine. You're my 'ever after'. You're the only person I want to be with; the only person I ever wanted to be with. When I lost you I thought I would never love again and God the day you were told to rob me, while one of the scariest days of my life, was also one of the best because _I got you back_."

Some of the tension seemed to drain out of the other boy even as fresh tears broke from his eyes and slid down his cheeks. "I'm so glad. Kurt- I need you. I needed you. I always needed you. I love you so much, probably more than I've ever loved anyone and you- you not wanting me- it scares me so much."

"You don't need to be scared anymore," Kurt rubbed a hand tenderly over Blaine's uninjured cheek and very gently tilted his head upward so he could brush their lips together in a very light, comforting kiss. "I will always want you, _always_."

"I don't know why. I-I feel so broken. At first- when he first took me I tried to convince myself he couldn't break me, but he did. I thought I loved him. He broke me."

"You're not broken Blaine. If he had broken you than you never would have saved my life like you did," Kurt kissed him again, this time very gently on his nose. "You're hurt and you're scared but you're not broken."

"Not broken," the other boy whispered softly, as if trying to make himself believe it. Blaine was clutching him again desperately and he did the only thing he could think of. He started singing very softly in the other boy's ear.

_I tried to paint you a picture  
>The colors were all wrong<br>Black and white didn't fit you  
>And all along<em>

_You were shaded with patience_  
><em>You're strokes of everything<em>  
><em>That I need just to make it<em>  
><em>And I believe that<em>

_Time could tear you apart_  
><em>But it won't break<em>  
><em>Everything that you are, you are<em>

_We won't say our goodbyes_  
><em>You know it's better that way<em>  
><em>We won't break, we won't die<em>  
><em>It's just a moment of change<em>  
><em>All we are, all we are<em>  
><em>Is everything that's right<em>  
><em>All we need, all we need is<em>  
><em>A lover's alibi<em>

_I walked a minute in your shoes_  
><em>They never would have fit<em>  
><em>I figured there's nothing to lose<em>  
><em>I need to get<em>  
><em>Some perspective on these words<em>  
><em>Before I write them down<em>  
><em>You're an island and my ship has run aground<em>

_Time could tear you apart_  
><em>But it won't break<em>  
><em>Everything that we are, we are<em>

Blaine trembled against him, still crying, but this time silently as his head rested on Kurt's chest, tilted up just so he could see the other boy if his eyes were open. All the same he slowly let them close while Kurt finished singing to him as the shallow shuddering in his chest eased out into deep even breaths.

He laid with Blaine for a long time, just watching him sleep and thankful that the slumber seemed peaceful. It was only once he was sure Blaine was completely asleep and relaxed that he carefully shifted out of the bed so Blaine's head rested comfortably on the hospital pillow. He kissed the sleeping boy's forehead gently, whispering, "I just have to make a phone call honey. I'll be right back. Five minutes, I promise."

Blaine let out a murmur in his sleep, but nothing more.

He desperately didn't want to leave him there, but he knew he had to make the phone call. He found his way out into the waiting area and stepped outside into the warm air before pulling out his cell (or rather the replacement phone his father had purchased for him as a kind of 'I'm so glad you're safe' present). He dialled the familiar number and waited for an answer.

"Kurt?" A voice asked anxiously, "What the hell? I've been trying to reach you for a week and don't give me the bullshit story your step-brother and his girlfriend gave me, because I don't believe it for a second."

"Yeah they probably lied," Kurt said humourlessly. "Probably a good thing too, 'cause I might have been murdered otherwise."

"What?" Brad's voice rose in pitch, "What are you talking about? Kurt, are you okay?"

"A little worse for wear," he said tiredly, rubbing a hand over his forehead, "but I mean other than some cuts and bruises I'm fine. I'm not even concussed anymore, yay." The last word slipped out in an exhausted deadpan.

"Kurt!"

"It was a relatively minor concussion…I was kidnapped Brad," he let out with a sigh. "I was kidnapped and held for ransom for a week. Finn and Rachel had to make up the story about my dad because that's what they were told to do."

"God, Kurt, are you okay? Where are you now? Do you need me?" The questions were rapid fire. "I'll come right away Kurt, just say the words."

"I'm outside the hospital," he muttered, already feeling exhausted from the conversation. "Thanks for the offer, but really Brad, I'm fine. Well I'm physically fine, emotionally I'm- I'm all over the place. I'm just really- confused and maybe a little lost."

"Is this because of what happened to Blaine?" Bradley asked in a quiet voice, remembering the story Kurt had told him several months ago. "It brought it all back, didn't it? Are you sure you don't need me?"

"It brought it _all_ back, Brad. All of it," Kurt let out a soft laugh, "like you wouldn't believe. Hell, I hardly believe it."

"Kurt, do you want to explain to me what you're going on about?"

"Do you remember our conversation- where you told me it was okay to hold onto Blaine and keep on loving him, but you asked me to make room in my heart for you too?" Kurt asked him in a quiet voice.

"Yeah," Brad's voice was choked slightly. "You couldn't do it."

"No, I couldn't," Kurt agreed softly, "and it meant so much to me that you're still willing to be my friend even after I broke your heart."

"Yours was broken first, I always knew that," Bradley replied with a thick swallowing sound over the phone. "It's not your fault you're not ready- just keep me in mind if you ever are, okay?"

"Brad," Kurt gentled his voice very delicately, "What I'm trying to tell you, is that there's never going to be room in my heart for anyone else, not like that. I love you Bradley, but when it comes to the romantic love- there's too much love in there for Blaine for anyone else to fit."

"That's not healthy-"

"He's alive," Kurt cut him off abruptly, although his words weren't cruel. "Blaine's alive, Brad. The man who kidnapped me did it because- because I recognized Blaine. Blaine- he'd been held prisoner for two years and now- now he's free."

"Kurt I'm- I'm happy for you," Brad's voice sounded terribly strangled. "I guess- I guess I'm happy for Blaine too I guess. You told me so much about him so I know he's a good guy and I'm glad- glad he doesn't have to be a prisoner anymore-"

"You're babbling," Kurt said quietly. "Thanks Brad. I know- I know this hurts you."

"So you said you were confused, and a little lost," Brad swiftly changed the subject. "I assume that's partly why you called. If you need to talk to me you can Kurt. We may never be romantically involved again, but I still want to be your friend."

"You're such a masochist," Kurt let out the words with a sigh, listening as Brad let out a sad chuckle. "I may be confused, and a little lost, but it's nothing compared to Blaine. He- that man really confused him and now I don't know what to do. I'm doing my best but I don't know how to help him. It's- it's so hard. Every time I look at him and I see how hurt he is- every time I think about what he's been through- it just breaks my heart. Every time I ever imagined or dreamed of getting him back- it was never this hard."

"That's because reality is a lot rougher than our dreams Kurt," Bradley reminded him in a knowing voice. "Not all our dreams come true the way we want them to, but we have to make due. I know my dreams mostly included having you in my life, I just thought it would be as more than friends. I'm sure Blaine's dreams of being freed didn't include you getting kidnapped with him. The thing is our dreams still came true even if they're not quite as we imagined them. Reality's tough and things don't always happen the way we want them to, but we have to deal with that the best we can."

Bradley paused again and there was some static over the phone. "Blaine may be lost and confused now, but he has you Kurt and that's going to help a lot."

"You're right," Kurt let it out with a long sigh. "You're so right." Something was building up in his chest, "It's going to be hard, but it's going to be worth it."

"Maybe when he's ready I can meet him?" Bradley asked in a soft voice. "I'd like to meet the man so worthy of your love. I'm sure he's a wonderful guy."

"He is," Kurt murmured, deep down knowing he was hurting Bradley. "He's my whole world."

"I know."

"I got my whole world back," Kurt whispered into the phone, as the feeling of utter realization and amazement spread through his chest.

"I know Kurt. I know."

"I'm going back to Ohio," Kurt spoke suddenly, chewing on his lip, "He needs me Bradley. I have to go back. I have to be with him. He needs me and- and I need him. I need him more than I ever realized."

There was a long sigh on the other end of the phone, "I- Kurt- I don't know what to say."

"Say- I don't know what I want you to say," Kurt let out, running his hand over his head tiredly. "I just- I think I needed to say it- to somebody. My dad- I think he has an idea of what I'm thinking, but I- I know he'll support me it's just that I needed to say it to you first. I need your support Brad. You're one of my best friends-"

"Kurt," Bradley's voice was short and soft, "You know I'll support you whatever you decide. I support whatever makes you happy. I just wish it was me."

"You do make me happy, it's just-" Kurt breathed in deeply, "my heart was always with him. It always belonged to him."

"Email the dean and set up a meeting," Bradley cleared his throat with a hoarse cough. "I'm sure if you explain your situation- the fact you were kidnapped and held captive- I'm sure they'd hold your place at school for a year if you spoke to him. Just- come see me before you go- okay?"

"I will."

"You're sure this guy's going to make you happy? You know this isn't going to be easy- after all you've been through- after all he's been through-"

"Brad the happiest moment of my life was when he turned me around and I saw his face. I was scared and I was confused but it was the happiest I've ever been. I don't care how hard it is- he's the only one. He's everything- my fire, my inspiration, the love of my life- he's just the only one, my ever after. He always was; even when I thought he was gone that never changed." He paused for a moment, "I have to go, Brad. Blaine needs me."

* * *

><p>AN: So I'm officially on hiatus (it's only two weeks) until my exams are over. Just wait for your story alert email on that day!

Please drop me a review!


	23. Chapter 23: You're My Dream

Two Years Later Part II: Living in the Present

**Summary**: Two years ago Kurt's boyfriend was kidnapped and supposedly murdered. Two years ago Blaine was ripped away and brainwashed into believing his captor loved him. It's two years later and they've been reunited, but it's not everything they imagined it would be.

**Warning**: Non-explicit mentions of non-con. Some violence as well. Also mentions of suicidal thoughts (past mentions).

**A/N**: I am so freaking sorry I had to extend my hiatus! However now exams are finally over and I'm back! Writing has been a bit more difficult lately due to some real life issues. Basically I had some school issues and finally got a diagnosis explaining why I can't focus on anything (just waiting for the medication to kick in now) and am now the proud owner of a sweet little 3 year old pooch named Laney. Because of all this -and to avoid situations like the extended hiatus- I'm going to stick to once a week updates until I'm sure I can keep up with the schedule again (hopefully once I'm back into the swing of things we can go back to twice a week). Expect updates on Tuesday nights, probably before 8pm EST since I have to go to bed ridiculously early on weekday nights for work. Sorry again for the delay and the short chapter. I would have given you more but I didn't want to make you wait any longer. See you next week!

* * *

><p>Chapter 23: You're My Dream<p>

"Dad, Carole," Kurt looked at his parents carefully for a moment, "Do you think you want to come in and see Blaine. His family's not back yet and I really think- I think he could use a calming presence you know?"

"Kurt-" he hadn't even seen her before the girl was barrelling into his arms, cutting off anything further he might have tried to say to his parents. "God Kurt I'm so glad you're okay."

"Rachel I love you too but ow," he grimaced, trying to remove her from his arms as his ribs started to twinge angrily.

She backed up a little bit, her brown eyes looking soft as they gazed into his glasz ones and took in the multicoloured bruises -some blue, some green and some nearly black- on his face, "You are okay, aren't you? Oh God you're hurt-"

"A little beat up, that's all," he smiled weakly. "I'm fine Rachel."

"Can we see Blaine too-"

"Rachel I think now's probably not the best time for that. Too much at once you know and you are kind of intense sometimes. I think after everything it might be best if you and Finn wait a little bit before you go in to see him, alright?"

Her shoulder's slumped down a bit, "Okay, but tell him I miss him and that I'm glad he's alive and that I'm rooting for him?"

A soft smile found his face and he nodded his head, "I will tell him all of those things. Now where's your boyfriend?"

"Cafeteria," she managed a weak smile of her own, "Some things never change."

Kurt shook his head fondly, "That's true. Go keep him company for a while alright?"

Rachel nodded her head quietly, before biting just a little on her lower lip, "Do you think he'll be up to letting me see him before his parents take him back to Lima? I'd hate it if I didn't get to see him until Thanksgiving, but if it's what's best for him-"

"I'll talk to him and his family for you, okay?" Kurt told her, placing a gentle hand on her arm. "See what they think." He looked at her carefully for a moment, noticing her patented sad puppy expression, "Are you alright Rachel?"

"I just keep thinking about how things could have been different, that they should have been different," she shook her head. "It's just- the few times we all hung out together I really- I was really looking forward to having another close friend, especially one who made my best friend so happy and- I don't know- the could-have-been's have been bothering me."

"Things should have been different," Kurt agreed with her quietly, "but they weren't and we have to deal with that now." He managed a weak smile, "You can still have that close friend Rach, it's just going to take time."

"Yeah," she returned his smile just as weakly. "I'm going to go make sure Finn leaves some food around for the patients. I'll see you a little later?"

"Course," he gave her a light hug before watching her skirt swish as she took off in the direction of the cafeteria. He looked back over at his parents and let out a soft sigh, "So as I was saying?"

"We'd love to see Blaine. We missed having him around," Carole spoke gently, wrapping an arm around Kurt's shoulders. "You lead the way."

"You really think seeing us will help him?" Burt asked with a furrowed brow as his fiddled with the beak of his baseball cap.

Kurt nodded, thinking back to how much Blaine used to talk up how much he loved spending time at the Hudson-Hummel place; that Burt and Carole had always made him feel like a part of the family. "Dad I think it would help a lot."

Burt gave a short nod and added in a bit of a gruff tone, "Well as long as it helps him out." He fiddled with his hat again, "I don't want to do anything if it might be too soon for him. I owe Blaine a lot. He's a good kid and he saved your life and before all this he was good to you; made you happy."

"I think he needs it Dad," he spoke in a quiet tone. He had seen it when he looked into Blaine's eyes and watched him unravel. He needed someone there for him to remind him his freedom was real and that what it had taken to get it _didn't_ make him an awful person.

It didn't take much to see that Blaine felt guilty.

"Then lead the way, kiddo," he made a bit of a jerking motion with his head.

He turned a little and got them past the security door by quickly speaking with a nurse before leading them down a short maze of hallways. "This is it," he placed a hand on the door hesitantly. "I'm just going to go in and let him know you're here. Too many surprises might not be a good thing."

"Of course Sweetie," Carole smiled at him warmly, despite that a flash of pain crossed her face. She could only imagine what Blaine had gone through.

"You're probably right," Burt just put a hand gently on his shoulder and gave a short reassuring squeeze.

Carefully he pushed the door open. Blaine was still curled up on one side of the bed and clutching a little at the blankets in his hands as a little discontented murmur escaped his lips. The worst part of the vision was the sight of Blaine's bruised face creased with pain even in his sleep as his eyes moved quickly under their lids.

It wasn't the peaceful sleeper he'd left earlier in the hospital room, so he gently placed his hand on the other boy's shoulder and jostled him softly. "Blaine," he whispered with a light shake, "wake up Honey. Come on, wake up."

Blaine's eyes stilled their rapid movement and his lids fluttered slightly. A groan escaped the other boy as his eyes slowly came into focus on him. "Kurt, thank God," Blaine whispered in reverent disbelief, "you're okay."

"What?" Kurt looked at him oddly for a moment. "Blaine?"

"I was dreaming, or at first it was just like I was remembering but then when we were fighting for the gun he beat me and-" a tear watered up and skittered down his cheek, "he got it and he shot you and all I could see was blood, just so much of it and knowing it was yours-" now instead of just one there was a frenzy of tears.

"Hey, hey, that's not how it happened," Kurt reminded him in a quiet voice. "I'm here and I'm fine. It didn't happen that way. You saved me Blaine, remember that."

Those haunted hazel orbs just gazed up at him as if Blaine was just willing himself to believe it was true. "Okay."

"My dad and Carole are here," Kurt added after a beat of silence had passed as he carefully thumbed away the other boy's tears. "They want to see you and I thought you might like to see them too. They're just outside. I can get them right now if you want me too."

Blaine seemed to stare at him for an impossibly long moment, before quietly nodding his head. "Can you?"

Kurt smiled and leaned down carefully making sure not to surprise the other boy with his movement to kiss his cheek lightly. Then he went back to the door and opened it, "Dad, Carole?"

They followed him in, looking a little hesitant as they did. The moment Carole saw Blaine she slid into the seat next to his bed and extended her hand, merely inviting him to take it if he chose to, rather than taking it outright. The boy huddled in the bed just slipped his hand over and wrapped it around hers, "Hi Carole," he whispered awkwardly, "N-n-nice to see you."

A slightly pained smile came over the woman's face. "Oh Blaine, it's so nice to see you too," she murmured at him quietly. "We really missed you these past couple years."

Blaine's mouth just twitched, apparently unable to force it into a smile. "Thanks." The boy's eyes flickered to Burt who was just watching the exchange. "Mr. Hummel-"

"Please Blaine, it's Burt," the man's voice was quiet.

"B-Burt, I just- I wanted to say I'm sorry," Blaine's voice hoarsened wetly. "I never meant for it to happen. I never meant to get him in trouble. I'm so sorry."

"Whoa," Burt knelt down at the side of the bed as his eyebrow's furrowed tightly, "What do you mean you're sorry?"

"I got Kurt involved. I didn't mean to but it was still my fault," Blaine whispered, his finger's tightening a little around Carole's hand.

"It wasn't your fault that man took you and it wasn't your fault that he later made you kidnap someone one else. I know he didn't give you a choice when that man took you and that he didn't give you a choice when he made you kidnap Kurt. It wasn't your fault that happened," Burt's light eyes stayed locked on Blaine's. "You don't have a reason to be sorry. Hell kid I'm grateful to you. I owe you everything because you fought to save my son and you fought to come back to us. I owe you _everything_."

Kurt had to step back, caught for a moment, as was Blaine, by the intensity in the man's words.

"Burt I-" he seemed to be at a loss for words.

"What is it son?" Burt asked in a quiet voice.

"Thank you," the words came out softly as Blaine's eyes continued to shine brightly.

"Kid I'm the one thanking you here, for loving my son so much that you did something that must have been terrifying for you in order to save him," Kurt's father added as he tentatively placed a hand onto Blaine's arm. "I love you like a son, because somehow I think that one day you're going to be."

Blaine's eyes widened as he stared at Burt for a long moment, "Really?"

"Really. I can't imagine Kurt would ever let you go."

Blaine's eyes dropped for a moment and his lips pursed together as if holding back words that there threatening to escape.

Apparently Burt could sense just what he was thinking. "I know my son Blaine, but somehow I think maybe you need to hear it from him." His father turned towards him, "Why don't you tell Blaine what you decided Kurt?"

"I haven't even told you yet-" he started but his father was just shaking his head with a small smile.

"Like I said, I know my son. I know what you're going to do, so why don't you tell Blaine?"

He turned to Blaine and gathered up the other boy's free hand and gently squeezed his fingers, "I'm coming back to Ohio-"

"You can't!" Blaine's voice came out high and hoarse. "You can't do that for me. I- New York's your dream Kurt. You can't give that up for me. You'll start to resent me and then- then we won't even be friends and I just couldn't take that. Kurt you have to stay-"

He crouched so he was eye level and squeezed Blaine's hand just a little bit tighter. "You don't get it do you? New York isn't my dream anymore. For the last two years my dream has been you- just you. That dream has finally come true so why on Earth would I stay here when my dream's going to be back in Ohio? No, I'm going back Blaine. You're my dream Blaine. You're all I want- all I've ever wanted- my _everything_ and my ever after."

A small sniff escaped Blaine. "Even after everything he did to me-"

"I love you Blaine," Kurt cut him off in a whisper, becoming completely focussed on the other boy and nearly forgetting that his parents were there with them in the room. "What he did to you was awful but it doesn't change the way I feel about you. I love you. I've always loved you and I will be yours as long as you want me to be."

"Are we still-"

"We never broke up. We were just apart," Kurt murmured, his voice deepening a little as he kept his eyes locked on Blaine's.

"You can't put your life on hold just for me," Blaine started in a meek voice.

"I won't be putting it on hold," Kurt shook his head, "I'll merely be focussing on something much more important that school work or performing; you. I've spent two years without you Blaine- I don't think I can handle any more. I'll talk to the school and see if I can work out a gap year. It'll be fine. That way I can save up some money for my last few years working at my dad's shop and I can help you re-adjust, remind you how much I love you and always will or whatever else you might need from me."

"Kurt it's-"

"You saved my life. I love you. It's not too much. It's not nearly enough," Kurt gave him a weak sort of smile. "Please just accept my help. I need to be there for you just as much as you need me to be. I need this Blaine."

"I love you so much," Blaine whispered in a tiny voice.

"I love you too," Kurt murmured.

There was a soft cough and Kurt looked up to see Carole crying silently and wiping a few tears from her eyes; moved by the exchange. Even his father looked a little bright eyed with unshed tears when he looked to where the man was now standing at the side of the hospital bed.

"So," he changed the subject awkwardly, "Rachel wanted me to say hi. She says she misses you and she's glad you're going to be okay."

"You really think I will be?" The other boy's voice was sad and a little curious.

"I know you will be," Kurt reassured tenderly. "You know she wants to know if she can see you before you have to go back to Lima. I told her I'd talk to you about it. Would it be too much if she and Finn visited you later?"

Blaine just looked at him for a long moment, looking remarkably small and young huddled under the blankets of the hospital bed. "Would you be here too?"

"If you want me to be-"

"I do."

"Then I'm not going anywhere," Kurt smiled very softly at the other boy and gripped his hand a little tighter.

"I just-" Blaine chewed quietly on his lower lip for a long moment before averting his eyes a little, "I don't want to be alone again. I mean I had him but I was still alone- lonely. I had no one. I think that's why I loved him or thought I did. I just- I don't want to think about it anymore." His head bowed low as his body gave a few low shuddering shakes.

"I can't help you forget or stop those thoughts from coming to you," he cut in, but gently, "but I won't leave you alone. You don't have to be lonely anymore. I'm here- we're all here. Your parents and Bri and Joey will be back soon and you won't ever have to be alone, okay?"

"Was I really all you dreamt about?" The change of subject was abrupt and quiet.

"Every night I saw you," Kurt tried to shake back the tears welling up in his eyes tightly, "and that wasn't even enough. I still imagined I saw you some days too. New York used to be my dream but it was nothing without you to share it with. I have a new dream Blaine. My dream is to be with you for the rest of my life, however long that may be."

"You were my dream too," Blaine licked his lips nervously, "about going home and getting to see you again."

"Was it everything you wanted it to be?" Kurt asked after a short moment.

"I don't know- it's not how I dreamt it would happen, but it's here-" the words were cut off shakily as the other boy closed his mouth, apparently unable to continue. "It's here and I think- I think I'm finally starting to believe it's real."

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><p><strong>AN**: Not my favourite bit of writing but it was damn hard to get out (sorry again for the wait). See you next week and please leave me a review.


	24. Chapter 24: Muddled

**Summary**: Two years ago Kurt's boyfriend was kidnapped and supposedly murdered. Two years ago Blaine was ripped away and brainwashed into believing his captor loved him. It's two years later and they've been reunited, but it's not everything they imagined it would be.

**Warning**: Non-explicit mentions of non-con. Some violence as well. Also mentions of suicidal thoughts (past mentions).

**A/N:** This is a little short but honestly I've been super busy. Mother's day is coming up and I'm doing a special little project for my mother that includes relearning how to use Vegas Studio (maybe it's just me but I find it hard). I don't even get to watch Glee tonight. I must go to bed super early (aka like in twenty minutes) if I plan to make it into my first day of work onsite on time.

Well that said I apologize again that this chapter is a little on the shorter side, but at least it's on time! I hope to have Blainers out of the hospital by the end of the next chapter, but we'll see where the story takes me. I do know I need to get him back to Ohio eventually so the slow, torturous healing process can begin.

I hope you enjoy the chapter!

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><p>Chapter 24: Muddled<p>

Rachel slipped into the chair across from her boyfriend and watched as the boy stopped eating for a moment to look up at her. Finn thankfully took a moment to swallow before speaking to her. "Hey, did you see Kurt?"

She let out a grimacing smile, "Yeah. He seems- alright I guess. A little shaken up but I don't really blame him." She sagged a little in the chair, "I really wish I could see Blaine. I'm still finding it hard to believe he's back- it's almost as hard as it was believing he was gone." She shook her head slowly to clear the jumbled thoughts in her head. "It's just- it's so crazy to think things turned out like this. What are the odds?"

Finn looked at her dumbly for a long moment, "I'm not very good at Math Rach, but you're right I guess. It seems really weird, but I mean some of it's a good weird, right? Kurt gets to have Blaine back and Blaine gets to have his life back-"

"But none of it is going to be the same," Rachel reminded him with a long sigh. There was no way things were going to go back to the way they'd been. Too many things had happened and too much time had passed. "Blaine's not going to be able to bounce back and suddenly be the same person he used to be. Kurt's not the same person he used to be; neither are you and me. All this craziness changed us and our lives, but it's had to have affected Blaine the most and the worst. I can't even- I can't imagine the things he's had to go through."

"Yeah," Finn seemed to completely stop eating at that, "You're totally right." There was a long pause, "but I mean some things don't change, right? He was a strong dude when he disappeared so he's probably still strong now." Finn looked contemplative for a second, "Maybe he can't bounce right back but I mean his life isn't over. It's kind of like it's beginning again, right? He can like heal with time and we're going to be there for him as much as possible. I mean if stuff had happened like it was supposed to he would have transferred and we all would have ended up friends so we might as well be friends with him now, right? He needs Kurt and Kurt needs us and we need Kurt, so we all kind of need each other-"

"Suddenly I'm reminded of all the reasons that I love you," she murmured softly, reaching over the table to slip her hand into his bigger one; "your optimism, your heart; everything."

He looked a little confused for a moment, before a soft goofy smile grew over his mouth, "I love you too Rachel."

She smiled back at him, feeling her insides melt into jelly at the way he was looking at her with such affection. "You're right you know? I think he will be okay if we all believe in him and help him and give it lots of time." The feeling sunk just the tiniest degree, "I just hope he lets us. I mean I can only imagine how hard this must all be for him. I just can't help thinking that we didn't have an opportunity to be friends before, but we have one now and I just really hope he lets us take it."

"Yeah, me too…" Finn's attention seemed to wane suddenly and she turned her head to follow his gaze. That's when she spotted Joey slipping through the hallway in the direction she could only assume lead to Blaine's hospital room. Joey's eyes swept over the crowd once, but if he recognized them he didn't so much as hazard them a glance, but then again he probably had much more important things on his mind; like Blaine.

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><p>His eyes flickered upward when he heard the sound of the door to the hospital room opening, feeling just the slight bit hopeful as his brother's form stepped through the doorway. The hopeful feeling slipped despite Kurt, Burt and Carole's presence when his eyes gathered in the tension in Joey's shoulders and the way his hands were clenched with his nails digging into his palms.<p>

"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Hummel," his brother greeted politely, the words just slightly edged with a stiff formality. Joey's eyes softened a little when they fell on him and Kurt, "Hi Kurt. Glad to see you're alright."

"I have Blaine to thank for that," Kurt's voice was tender beside him. "He saved me."

Joey's smile grew just a little bit, but almost immediately his brother turned to Burt and Carole, "Do you mind if I speak to Blaine privately for a little while?"

Then the tension was his muscles too. He tightened his hand around Kurt's, holding the other boy and pulling him closer when Kurt made as if to move. "Kurt, please I need you right now." Kurt immediately eased back in the chair and he looked over at Joey, "Let Kurt stay, please."

A sigh escaped the older boy and he rubbed a palm tiredly over his eyebrow and temple, "Alright then."

"We'll just join Finn and Rachel in the cafeteria for now," Carole spoke up softly and turned her head towards him. "Blaine, Sweetheart," her hand moved hesitantly to brush some of his hair away from his temple, "feel better soon, alright?" She leaned down, her movements slow enough that it didn't surprise him or, surprisingly, make him flinch when she tenderly and quickly kissed the side of his forehead.

"I'll try, Carole, thanks," he whispered with a little swallow, watching as she stood and gripped Burt's hand before walking with her husband towards the door.

"We'll come back a little later, if that's alright," Burt's voice was a little hoarse even behind the shield of gruffness. "Got to come back to pick up Kurt later anyhow and we'll need see how you're doing. You take care of yourself, son."

He just gave a weak smile and minute nod, watching as Kurt's parents slipped out of the hospital room to leave him alone with Kurt and his brother. He bit down on his lip, pinching his lower lip tightly before gazing at joey and asking in a timid voice, "What did you want to talk about?"

"Are you sure you want Kurt here for this?" Joey started awkwardly, sending a quick glance at Kurt. "What I want to ask you is kind of sensitive and probably going to be difficult- you-you might not want him to hear the answer-"

"I want him to leave even less," the words were as clear as they were quiet. "Joe-"

"Look Blainers- Buddy," his brother, who was now more a man than a boy, seemed at a loss for words and his forehead was creased in concern, "I spoke to one of the neighbours at that building they found you in. She confessed that LaMontone victimized her as well-"

His head started to buzz and went blank for a moment, "Wh-what?"

"Blaine-"

"No," he shook his head, squeezing Kurt's hand even tighter. He shook his head again, the movements becoming more vigorous. "No, he didn't. You're wrong or she's lying or something. He promised if I was good- he promised- no one else-"

"Buddy he wasn't exactly the kind of guy who kept his promises."

It couldn't be. He was supposed to be enough. Through all his suffering he'd managed to bear it by knowing that because he did, that others didn't have to. He'd lived with it not just for Bri or Kurt although that was a big part of it, but for the girls and boys he'd often hear Pierre comment about with that same sideways look that, when it was aimed at him, meant he'd better get into the bedroom quickly if he wanted to make things easier on himself.

He hadn't been enough. The knowledge made his entire body stiffen tightly and he screwed up his face as an anguished growled tore from his throat. "No!"

"Blaine, what's wrong?" Kurt's voice was filled with quiet alarm as his hand, the one he wasn't currently clutching in a death grip, moved to gently touch his shoulder.

"Don't!" He threw Kurt's hand from his grip and jerked his arm back from the gentle touch. "Please I just-"

"Tell me what's wrong," Kurt interrupted him, but this time his voice was firmer than before. "We can't help you if you don't tell us-"

"I wasn't enough for him!" The yell escaped him suddenly, blurting from his lips and he sagged against the bed with a singular sob. "I thought I could- I don't know- stop someone else from being hurt if I was just good enough. Sometimes it felt like it worked, but- but I wasn't enough. Someone else was raped because I couldn't-"

"Stop right there," it was his brother who cut in this time. "What the hell do you think you're doing? How the hell can you blame yourself- blame _my_ little brother- for something someone else did, because honestly, Blaine, I think your logic is a little skewed. What were you going to do to stop him, huh?"

"I could have tried harder," his eyes dropped so he was gazing at the blanket at his lap. "If I tried harder I could have pleased him enou-"

"Blaine stop," his head turned to look at Kurt to see that the other boy had tears streaming down his face. "Please stop. I can't stand to hear you talk like this. How could you think-"

"I just," he brought up a hand to clutch the thin blue gown over his chest, "it hurts so much. I feel so guilty and ashamed and stupid. I thought I loved him. I thought I could be enough for him and he did all these awful things and," the thought that had been plaguing the back of his mind for the last day finally slipped out in the open, "somehow I still feel like I miss him." He heard the words in his own ears and a fresh wave of self-disgust washed over him. "Do you even hear me? He was horrible to me, he raped me over and over and I _miss_ him? How can I- I'm just- I have to be an awful person- screwed up- to miss someone like that."

Both the other men in the room stared at him for a long moment, either too in shock or too disgusted to find words. They didn't look disgusted, so he assumed it was shock. If anything Kurt looked like he was about to collapse his face was so pale and Joey just looked pained.

"You're not an awful person," his brother's voice was soft, "and you know you might not really miss him. You're probably just confused."

"Yeah," Kurt's spoke haltingly, "and even if you do. It's not like you miss the things he did. You were just used to him, right? It's different and probably a little strange now that he's gone?"

God he could only hope they were right, but he wasn't too sure. "Maybe."

"Can I?" Kurt's hand crept forward towards his again and he gave a quick nod, finding some comfort in the fact that Kurt was still willing to have any sort of physical contact with him after the revelation. Both of Kurt's hands enclosed over his, "Blaine, are you sure you're not just feeling guilty about what you had to do to save me, because it sounds like you might be."

His eyes tingled as he fought back again against building tears, "I don't know. It's like I loved and hated him at the same time. I did something I always hated him for doing. I killed someone and the worst part is knowing that if we were back there that I'd do it again," his words shook heavily, "I wouldn't even hesitate. I killed someone that just a few days before I was convinced I loved." He was losing his war against the tears as they welled up in his eyes, "It scares me Kurt. What if I-" he didn't finished. It was bad enough he'd blurted out the rest.

Joey however seemed to read his mind anyway and knew instinctively what he was thinking.

"You're not like him," his brother came up the side of the bed and crouched down by him. "That man took pleasure in hurting others, in making other people suffer and you'd never do that. No, instead you tear yourself up inside because you feel guilty for not being able to stop him and because the one time you could it meant hurting someone. Buddy- the very fact you feel guilty means you are nothing like him."

"Besides," Kurt added on when Joey finished, "You really shouldn't think of it as killing someone. What you were doing was saving my life."

He let out a loud sniff, "I want to see it that way, but it's so hard. I feel so weak-"

"You're the strongest person I know. You survive Honey, that takes more strength than most men have. You did what you had to and when it came down to it you did what must have been the hardest thing for you to do at that moment-"

"That's the thing," he cut Kurt off, glancing at his eyes for just a moment. "It wasn't hard at all. I was so angry and scared and the hardest thing for me to do at that moment would have been to stand by and watch him kill you." He lowered his head, leaning it towards Kurt and pressing it against his chest as he choked out a short sob. "It was like when he had me tied up and he was pinning you down to the bed and I couldn't do anything and that killed me; but when he was threatening you I _could_ do something and I did, and it I feel so wrong because it felt good. It felt right."

"Blaine-"

"How can you love somebody like me?" He leaned back and raised his eyes up again. "It's one thing to kill someone but listen to me, look at me; I feel so guilty that it's ripping me apart, but at the same time I don't."

He watched as Kurt looked uncertainly at Joey for a moment, before something else grew up behind those glasz eyes he'd missed so much over the past two years and they turned back to gaze at him. "Blaine the person I love is strong , courageous, kind, loving and beautiful and that person is you, whether you know it or not. We're going to figure this out," Kurt's hand squeezed tight around his, "together. You don't have to suffer through this on your own anymore. You've got me, Joey, Bri, your parents, my parents, Finn and Rachel too if you want."

He leaned back, wanting to let that loved and cherished feeling wash over him and it did, but it still felt tainted somehow. "I'm just so muddled up. I don't know how to feel…"

"And that's okay," Kurt reassured him in a quiet tone. He tried to let those words sink in; to let himself believe that was he was feeling was normal or expected, but he just couldn't force it, "it's going to take time."

The question was how much. Would it take months or years? And what if the moment he found his feet again his world was yanked away once more? It had happened before. Once upon a time he'd thought that things like that only happened to other people, but he'd been forced to realize that to someone else he _was_ one of those other people.

Part of his life had turned into a cautionary tale. He could almost picture mothers talking to their children, warning them to listen to their instincts and to never walk home alone in the dark lest they end up like that Anderson boy; like him.

A long silence passed and he couldn't dwell on it anymore, so instead his stare flickered back around to his brother, "So- wh-what was it you wanted to talk about-before I um- freaked out on you."

A flash of pain crossed his brother's eyes, "That neighbour said that LaMontone gave her an STI-"

"Oh, that," it was hardly a better thought to process. "The doctor said I'll be fine in a week or so."

"Blaine…" Joey trailed off, looking bereaved at his wording.

"Well maybe 'fine' will take a bit more than a week," he spoke weakly, "but… well… you know." Except they didn't; they couldn't.

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><p><strong>An:** Well there you have it. I hope you liked it and please leave me a review.


	25. Chapter 25: Safe

**Summary**: Two years ago Kurt's boyfriend was kidnapped and supposedly murdered. Two years ago Blaine was ripped away and brainwashed into believing his captor loved him. It's two years later and they've been reunited, but it's not everything they imagined it would be.

**Warning**: Non-explicit mentions of non-con. Some violence as well. Also mentions of suicidal thoughts (past mentions).

**A/N**: I apologize for missing last Tuesday. Some real life stuff hit, although thankfully the stress ended up being a false alarm. I thought to make up for it that I'd try to post two chapters this week (even if this one's a little short). This one today and then another on the regular Tuesday. I even brought a notebook with me to work and wrote during my lunch break!

This is also officially my longest story yet, considering Fallout only managed to make it to 25 and this one is already there and not finished yet!

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><p>Chapter 25: Safe<p>

Exhaustion was starting to set in, but Blaine forced himself to stay awake in hopes that his parents and sister would be back soon. Joey hadn't left him and Kurt was still at his side, but a part of him- the part that was still a scared young teen begging to go home- desperately wanted his parents. He wanted to be held tightly and told he was loved.

Kurt could give him that, but it was different coming from him. He loved the feeling the other boy gave him, but it wasn't quite the same as having his parents hold him tight; making him feel protected and safe for the first time in years.

He might be nineteen years old but deep down he was still a little boy who wanted Mommy and Daddy to make everything alright again. The nineteen year old part of him realized that things would never be the same but he didn't care. He wanted to pretend. He wanted to pretend he was a little boy again.

That little boy had never met Jean-Pierre LaMontone, had never been watched by him, had been safe. He missed that with a desperation he couldn't even explain to himself.

His eyes flickered tiredly and he gave his head a little shake, trying to stay awake.

"You can go to sleep Blainers. I'll wake you up when they get here," Joey told him softly, patting his hand gently.

Blaine just shook his head, whispering. "I want this to be over. I want my life back. I-I want Mom and Dad-"

"They're on their way-"

"Well they're taking too long," he grumbled, feeling a little childish as he let out a sigh. He felt Kurt squeeze his hand comfortingly and he squeezed back lightly, before pushing himself up into a sitting position on the bed. "I just- I'm sorry. I just this all- I want Mom and Dad I guess. I miss them-"

"Hey it's alright Blainers," Joey soothed in a quiet voice. "I'm not upset. I don't blame you bud. We missed you too, more than you'll ever know. We're going to go home soon, I promise. You're getting out of here today and it's back to Ohio as soon as you're ready."

"It's been awhile- do you think they're alrigh-"

"They're fine Blaine," Joey reassured him quietly. "They probably went a little crazy shopping. Last year Dad donated most of your old clothes to Goodwill so they need to pick up your basic necessities."

"I was supposed to be dead," Blaine chewed down on his lip for a moment. Everyone said his mother never gave up, but then why did she let his dad throw away all his old clothes? Wouldn't she want them there for him for when he came back, since everyone said she was convinced that he would? "But Mom-"

"Was really pissed off when she found out," Joey supplied with a weak smile. "I don't think she and Dad talked for a whole week after that incident. Dad- he was having difficulties and he couldn't handle it. He said that it all reminded him of you and that the memories were too painful." Joey paused, locking his eyes on Blaine's for a long moment, "We never stopped loving or missing you Blaine. That wasn't what it was about."

"I know," he mumbled in a quiet voice. There was a soft creaking by the door and his head snapped up sharply to see his mother come into the room with several shopping bags in her arms. His father and sister followed her, each with a few bags of their own. "You're back," he whispered in a soft voice.

"Of course Baby," his mother greeted him gently. "We just got a little carried away. We figured if we need to stay here for a few days with getting things settled with the police and our flights that we'd all need a few things; toiletries, clothes and such." Her voice softened with a quiet smile, "In all the excitement we never really packed properly. We were too preoccupied with getting you back. That and we're pretty sure Joey didn't pack much either when he came up for Kurt."

Joey gave a bit of a sheepish smile, "It's true."

"Right," he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up shakily, Kurt ready at his side to steady him. "Can I have some clothes?" He asked in a very quiet voice, his head down slightly. "The hospital gown's kind of uncomfortable and-"

"You don't have to explain yourself Sweetie," his mother passed him over a bag. "There's a few things we picked up for you in there. I don't know if you still like the same things, but I went off of what you used to wear before, if that's alright?"

"It's fine, Mom," he murmured, accepting the bag warily. He looked inside, a little taken aback by the quality of the clothing. He knew he used to wear clothes like this all the time, but now he was so used to the cheap polyester blends Pierre bought for him that even the pure cotton shirt felt like silk when he let a finger stroke across it. "Thanks. I'm just- going to go change."

He slipped into the small bathroom attached to his hospital room and stared at himself for a long moment in the mirror. The thin boy staring back at him wasn't the same kid that had gone missing two years ago. He'd changed so much that it was hard to believe his family could even recognize him. He hardly recognized himself. His muscle tone had disappeared from lack of exercise for one and he looked so much more tired than what he remembered of his previous self.

The old Blaine had never sported such deep circles under his eyes that were only accented by the dark bruising. He never had the cut extending from under his eye down his cheek that would probably permanently scar because of it's formerly inadequate treatment, even if it was properly stitched up now. Of course not all his scars were as easily visible as that one.

His eyes were the biggest change- he noted. He hadn't noticed before. He'd been too busy trying to survive and keep himself some semblance of sane, but now it looked obvious. His eyes looked so different, darkened and haunted that he could barely look at himself.

Carefully he turned his back on the mirror and picked out a sealed package of clean underwear from the bag. Once he ripped it open he shed the thin gown and put on the undergarment, before checking to see just what exactly his parents had picked up for him. In the bag were a few soft, cotton, collared shirts and a button-down, as well as two pairs of fitted looking pants. One pair was a bright red, the other coal black.

He slipped on the black pair quietly. He hadn't worn a color that bright in years and he wasn't sure he could just go back to it so quickly. He paired it with the grey polo shirt and let out a deep sigh before he stepped out of the bathroom and faced his family and Kurt.

Kurt came up to him quietly and opened his arms for a hug. He stepped into it gratefully, feeling the arms squeeze around him and taking some comfort in it until Kurt murmured to him, "Blaine are you going to be okay now that your family is here? I have some things I need to deal with before I can make definite plans to go back to Ohio. I have to talk to the Dean of my school-"

"I'll be okay," Blaine spoke the lie quietly. Honestly he needed Kurt with him, but he desperately didn't want to smother him with his neediness. He knew that despite how much he wanted it, Kurt couldn't be with him every second of the day. "You go do what you need to do. I'll be fine now."

"I hope you're telling me the truth," the words left Kurt's mouth in a sigh. "I love you Blaine. I love you so much, you know?"

He hazarded a nod, "I do."

"Can I kiss you?" Kurt's mouth moved so the words were whispered next to his lips.

He nodded again, his lips shaking as Kurt captured them in a short, sweet kiss that sent his heart beating wildly.

"I'll see you soon," Kurt told him in that same soft tone, before giving him a little smile. "You look great by the way, more like yourself." Kurt gave him another quick kiss and slipped a scrap of paper into his hand. "If you need me this is my new cell phone number. Just call or text okay, or get Joey or Bri or someone to. I'll come right away, I promise."

"Okay," he tightened his fist around the scrap, holding onto it for dear life. "Thank you."

Kurt squeezed his other hand, "I'll see you soon Blaine. I love you."

"I love you too," he murmured, watching as Kurt made slowly towards the door, hesitating several times before the young man slipped out of it. He chewed on his lower lip for a long moment, just watching the space where moments ago Kurt had just been.

"You do look great," his sister grinned at him brightly, breaking him out of his stare, "but it's missing something Blaine-o, some color." She had something hidden in her hand and she took a tentative step towards him before holding out a red bowtie.

His face reddened a little bit. The gesture was sweet and made tears build in his eyes but he wasn't even sure if he remembered how to tie one. "I- I don't know-"

"It's like riding a bike. You never really forget," Brianna gave him a gentler smile, "but if you want I'll do it for you this time? Or- if you'd rather we can just skip the bowtie for now?"

"No, I- I'd like to wear it," he forced out weakly. "Could you- um-?"

"Of course," she took a step forward and gently draped the fabric around his neck before her adept fingers manoeuvred the fabric into the appropriate shape. The tie fit snugly but not too tight around his neck, just like he remembered it, even if the memory was vague.

It was strange how such a small thing felt so right. He felt a bit like himself again; like he'd gotten just a little bit of the old Blaine back.

Pierre thought bowties were stupid and had slapped him the only time he'd gotten up the courage to ask for one. At the time he'd told himself it was because money was tight, but really he knew it had been all about supressing Blaine and everything he treasured about himself. It had been to keep him downtrodden and submissive; too afraid to ask for something as simple as a small accessory.

That lesson had taught him not to ask for hair gel either, or anything that wasn't strictly a necessity. Honestly he'd been shocked when just a few weeks before on his nineteenth birthday he'd been allowed to print out that picture of him and Kurt and purchase a ratty poster from a yard sale a block away.

He sniffed back the approaching tears and forced a smile on his face before wrapping his arms around his sister so quickly that it surprised even him. Brianna relaxed into the embrace immediately, her arms tightening around his back. "Thanks Bri."

"It's no problem," she murmured, stepping back when his grip on her loosened. "You'll remember how to do it in no time."

"In the meantime why don't we get you discharged and to the hotel, huh Baby?" His mother moved over to wrap an arm around his back. "There's a nurse waiting outside to escort us to reception."

His teeth came down on his lip again, "Rachel wanted to visit-"

"We'll get a hold of her and she can come by the hotel," his mother told him softly, starting to lead him out of the hospital room. He held back against the very light, leading push. "Blaine?"

He didn't like hospitals. He wasn't sure anyone, other than the people who worked there and sometimes not even them, did. However that didn't change the odd feeling of safety that the place was giving him. It was the first place he'd spent any amount of time in that wasn't that tiny apartment in two years; the first place where he'd gotten to see his family again and the Hummels.

What if the hotel room felt just like the apartment?

"Can't we-" he stopped, shaking his head, unable to find a reasonable excuse not to leave. Some other person would be needing his hospital bed soon, possibly right now. So he just braced himself, tensing a little as his family led him through the hallways towards the reception area.

The waiting room was a quiet bustle of noise, but he wedged between his brother and his sister on a bench near the reception area as his parents finished filling out the paper work. He worried his lip the entire time, his knee bouncing nervously.

His little space of safety was nearly gone and he was going to have to face the world again; a world that had already betrayed him once.

"I'll go pull the car around," Joey murmured, laying his hand on Blaine's shaking knee for a moment and giving it a quick squeeze. "It may get a little noisy out there Blainers, but no one's going to let anything happen to you, okay?"

He looked up sharply, his eyes wide, nervous and questioning.

"The press is kind of having a field day, but don't worry about it. We've got you," Joey explained, trying to be reassuring at the same time, but was only mildly successful. His brother squeezed his knee again, "I'll see you in a few minutes."

Those few minutes passed much too quickly and soon he was pressed with his sister between both of his parents as they left the huge hospital building.

His brother's warning about the press having a _'field day'_ had not nearly prepared him for this. Lights were flashing in his face and a microphone had been shoved in his face as people called out questions at him all at once. He couldn't make out a single one and just flinched back violently, thankful for his mother's presence when she wrapped him protectively in her arms, following quickly behind his father and sister.

He clutched her tightly, and suddenly his fear of leaving the hospital didn't seem as irrational as they were forced to fight their way through the crowd. At least his parents were fighting their way through; he just buried his face in his mother's shoulder, trying to drown out all the noise and shouting.

Shouting, it always preceded pain and the pain was supposed to be over, but all of it still lingered inside him.

"Look," he heard his father's voice boom over the crowd, "my son has been through more than enough without being bombarded by a bunch of strangers. We understand that you're all concerned about his wellbeing, but all we want to do right now is get him somewhere quiet and reconnect as a family."

The crowd seemed to quiet for a moment, but the second his father stopped talking more questions were being shouted simultaneously at them.

He tucked his head down, letting his mother's arm around his back be the only thing leading him through the crowd as he hid his face from them. Even after they managed to get inside the rental car he clung to her, squeezing her tightly.

"It's okay Sweetheart," his mother whispered softly into his ear. "It's over now. You're safe."

If only he could believe her.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Next chapter has Kurt talking to the Dean of NYADA and Blaine trying to feel comfortable in the hotel with his family. I hope for chapter 27 that there's a Hummel Anderson reunion (with Rachel). There are some plans for Blaine to visit a friend of his in New York (it's sad I warn you) and for Kurt to say goodbye to Bradley, but I'm not sure about the order. I just know it's going to happen.

Again I'm so sorry for the delay in updating this chapter. Things have been really hectic, especially with my health scare (but I'm fine). I was tempted to do away with the schedule all together, but then I realized having a deadline each week really motivates me to write. So I'm going to keep aiming for every Tuesday.

When there are delays I will announce them on my Twitter where my handle is also Nicbearosaurus.

Now that that's all said, please leave me a review.


	26. Chapter 26: Out Loud and in the Open

**Summary**: Two years ago Kurt's boyfriend was kidnapped and supposedly murdered. Two years ago Blaine was ripped away and brainwashed into believing his captor loved him. It's two years later and they've been reunited, but it's not everything they imagined it would be.

**Warning**: Non-explicit mentions of non-con. Some violence as well. Also mentions of suicidal thoughts (past mentions).

**A/N**: GASP! Is this chapter actually... on time? Who would of thought? So... I wrote this first scene before Choke ever aired and just changed the name of the dean after it did so please forgive me if you feel Madame Tibideaux is out of character. I'll tell you one thing, that name is hard to spell without Google open.

Fun fact about me: My birthday is the day after Chris Colfer's. He's a year and a day older than me... and much more accomplished, :P.

Hope you enjoy the chapter.

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><p>Chapter 26: Out Loud and in the Open<p>

Kurt sank heavily into the chair across from the desk and looked at the Dean of the school who was regarding him with that unreadable expression of hers. "Madame Tibideaux, th-thank you for agreeing to meet with me."

"Of course Kurt," the woman smiled at him softly, the lack of expression leaving her face as her eyes crinkled up with crow's feet. "What can I do for you today? If it's about the classes you've missed I can assure you that you won't be docked any marks or credits for it considering the circumstances involved."

"It's not quite about that," Kurt swallowed thickly, a hand reaching up automatically to gingerly touch his cheek. He could only hope that the bruises made his dean more sympathetic to his plight. "I-I don't know how well I'd be able to focus on my courses this year- after everything that's happened. I-I think I'm going to need some time- to recover but I really don't want to lose my place here-"

"How long exactly were you thinking Mr. Hummel?" Madame Tibideaux asked with a soft frown, "You know if you were to take time off you'd fall behind very quickly-"

"I just- I thought I could come back at the beginning of next year and take a gap," Kurt murmured, straightening a little in the chair. "I figured that way I would just be a year behind getting my degree- rather than coming back and pushing myself too hard to catch up with the other students if I just took a couple months off. I just really don't want to lose my spot at the school-"

The dean's face softened further, "I can arrange it so your spot here is safe Kurt. I'd hate to see one traumatic event mess with your entire degree."

He let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "Thank you - I don't know what to say-"

"You don't have to say anything Kurt," she smiled at him gently. "Just come back next year ready to get back into the thick of it. Just take care of yourself back in Ohio, and that boy of yours too- Yes Kurt I read the news. It's quite the sensational story, especially considering the dramatic reunion between him and yourself. The press hasn't let it drop. I believe even the school paper wishes to run a story. Don't be surprised if you get interview requests-"

"Another reason I won't be coming back this year," Kurt muttered in a quiet voice. "I don't think I can deal with all that right now."

"The school will still be here when you return Kurt and your spot will be open and waiting for you. Take care of yourself Mr. Hummel, and good luck."

He was overwhelmed with gratitude for a long moment, but finally managed a weak, "Thank you," before he left.

* * *

><p>"Please," Kurt murmured as they entered the hotel, aiming his words mainly at Finn and Rachel, "don't bombard him. I spoke to Bri and she says the crowd at the hospital really overwhelmed him. I think we should have waited but apparently he really wanted us to come."<p>

Rachel lay a hand on his arm gently, "He probably just wanted to see you."

He gave her a strained smile, "Just please at first maybe talk to him one at a time and- and-"

"We won't talk about kidnapping or anything else like that." Rachel promised, sounding incredibly mature. Rachel would always be a bit selfish, it was just her nature, but when things were serious he knew he could count on her. She'd really proven herself over the years, especially when it came to his numerous breakdowns over Blaine's disappearance.

He could call it a disappearance now, and not a murder. Even just that little thought made the weight in his chest lift just a little. Blaine was alive. He'd seen the proof himself even if he'd suffered for the priviledge.

"Thank you Rachel," he let out a small sigh of relief.

"And if you ever want to talk about it…" she trailed off lamely and he saw her teeth pinch her lower lip.

He gave another forced smile, "Thanks Rachel, I appreciate that."

Finn, who'd stayed pretty much silent, just put a hand on his shoulder, "I love you bro." Everything else, the support, the offer of an ear or a shoulder, remained unsaid, but he understood it anyways.

Finn had never really been the strong, silent type, but somehow even though it was out of the ordinary, it was comforting.

"I love you too," he murmured back, hoping Finn understood all his unsaid words as well, in the language of brotherhood. He managed another somewhat pained smile, "and I suppose 'bro' is better than 'dude'."

Finn just gave him a lopsided grin before diving to press the elevator button before Burt could, turning a bit back into his usual goofy, slightly childlike ways; even if there was still a line of seriousness in his face.

"Sweetheart," Carole took the moment of silence (after admonishing Finn silently) as an opportunity to speak, "if you don't think he's ready don't you think we shouldn't go? You're probably right about it. The poor dear's just barely out of the hospital. He's got all those stitches..."

"It's what he wants," Kurt said quietly as the elevator doors opened and they stepped into the hallway. "After two years I think it's about time he gets what he wants. I think his parents are thinking along those lines too."

"What about what he needs," Burt cut in softly as they manoeuvred the hallway, "isn't that important?"

"What if this _is_ what he needs?" Kurt let out a sigh and ran a hand through his coif. "We don't know what he needs yet, neither does he. So for now we can only give him what he wants until he and his family figure that out. That and support, that's something we _know _he needs."

They stopped in front of the door that read the room number Brianna had given him. "Alright, let's go see him then, since that's what he wants."

Kurt raised his hand, made a fist and knocked.

* * *

><p>Blaine was trying to settle in. His family's hotel room was large and spacious with the living room and bedroom areas separate with a small kitchen and a little adjoining room with another bed. That adjoining room was where he was currently stowing away, oddly enough. As much as he'd dreaded any part of the hotel reminding him of the apartment, this room reminded him of his bedroom there and the solitude.<p>

It was where he'd gone to pull himself back together after his encounters with Pierre, whether they were physical or sexual.

The scene outside the hospital had been too much- too many people- and then he'd had to try to convince his parents to let Kurt and his family visit. As much as he didn't want to be alone, he needed a moment to compose himself before his visitors arrived.

He sucked in a deep breath, before wincing as the expansion of his chest and stomach pulled on the stitches in his side. Then again most movements pulled on his numerous stitches and he found himself only using one arm due to the cuts Pierre had inflicted on his right forearm. Even his left was a little sore from his own self-inflicted shallow cut from Kurt's kidnapping and that one hadn't even needed stitches. Opening the small door with his left hand he put on a brave face for his family despite all his aches.

"Feeling a bit better Baby?" His mother asked the moment her eyes landed on him.

"A bit, I guess," he hazarded a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Are Kurt and them coming soon? You know, since Rachel wanted to visit."

"Baby I'm not sure. I told Bri to tell them to come because you were so adamant, but are you sure you're ready? You just spent an hour by yourself because-"

"Mama please," his body crumpled inward at the prospect of not seeing Kurt until he realized he'd interrupted her. Almost immediately his body started to instinctively hunch and stiffen, "I'm sorry Mama." He wasn't supposed to beg either and he'd been about to. Intellectually he knew his mother wouldn't hit him, but he almost seemed to be acting without having control over it. His head bowed, "It's up to you if you want to send them away."

"Oh baby," she stepped towards him abruptly, arms outstretched and a flinch automatically wracked through his body at the sudden movement. His mother stopped, dropping her arms awkwardly, "I'm sorry baby. Of course we won't send them away." Her face looked shattered at his fearful reaction.

"Mama," he stepped into her arms and hugged her tightly, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be scared. I'm so sorry-"

"No," her voice was soft and firm, "Blaine I'm sorry. Until very recently you had a very good reason to be scared. That's not going to go away overnight. I shouldn't have come at you so quickly. I should have known better Baby boy."

"It's okay Mama," he tried to comfort her quietly.

"No it's not. What happened to you was not okay. _You_ will be someday, but what happened to you wasn't," she told him hoarsely. "I don't know what that monster told you, but there are three things you need to know and I'll tell you them as often as it takes until you believe them. We never stopped loving you, it wasn't your fault and it definitely wasn't okay."

His head turned upward and he stared up at her before nodding softly. If she could make him believe all those thing then he just might end up okay… one day.

He turned his head a little, taking in how his brother and sister were watching the embrace awkwardly along with their father. There was pain in their faces and somehow he knew he believed at least one part of what his mother had said; they had never stopped loving him.

A knock came at the door and he carefully broke away from his mother, trying to be careful not to pull at any of his stitches and sank into the couch. His teeth started to worry his lower lip until he forced himself to stop and he watched as five people piled into the hotel room.

He wanted to jump up the moment he saw Kurt, but he forced himself to remain still, not looking forward to the pain that action would have caused. Instead he locked eyes with him as Kurt made a beeline for him.

When Kurt sat next to him his body moved instinctively closer to the person he knew he could trust without a doubt; the person he'd shared part of his captivity with. Kurt just took his hand, murmuring a soft, "Hi," of greeting.

"Hi," he murmured back to him. "I'm glad you came."

"I'm glad too." Kurt let out a small sniff. "It's torture being away from you; honestly it hurts worse than the beating he gave me-"

"You mean the one I gave you," Blaine whispered as guilt rose up inside him.

"Don't you dare. You hardly touched me and you saved my life. I think that more than makes up for it," Kurt's voice was a soft, firm growl.

"Kay," he spoke the word mostly to make Kurt feel better, unsure if he actually meant it. It at least felt better to know that Kurt didn't blame him, whether or not he blamed himself.

Rachel came forward slowly, her steps hesitant as if she wasn't sure if she was welcome into their previously private world. Blaine looked up, returning her weak smile. "Hi," her voice was a bit timid, which from what he remembered was very uncharacteristic, "it's great to see you again Blaine. I missed you."

"Really?" He winced at how genuinely shocked and young his voice sounded. He hadn't meant to ask it like that, but it seemed like he still didn't have any control over his body. Of course that feeling was nothing new to him.

"Of course," she sat down next to him, leaving several inches between them.

She seemed to be afraid of spooking him and despite that it felt like she was treating him like a frightened animal; it seemed to prove she genuinely cared.

Besides, he kind of felt like a frightened animal and sudden movements did seem to be spooking him and making him jump. He wondered if that would ever go away or if he'd always flinch if someone moved too fast.

"Blaine I know we weren't exactly close, but it felt like we were becoming friends. I care about you, and not just as Kurt's boyfriend." He blinked. She'd used it in the present and that thought made his heart leap a little. "You're charming and fun and I really missed you when you were gone. It hurt because Kurt was hurting, but that wasn't all of it. It hurt because it felt like I lost a friend I never really got the change to have-"

"You can hug me… you know… if you want to," he told her softly, a little surprised with himself. He knew it would make her feel better. He hoped it would make him feel a little better too. Her words had struck him. He hadn't only lost the life he had, but the life and friends he should have had as well. Now- now he was getting a second chance at some of it.

It was nice that she cared so much.

Her slim arms clasped around him gently, as if she could sense his injuries -even if he knew it was probably because Kurt had told her- and he let her hold him close for a few moments before gently pulling back when it became just a bit too much.

"We could try now," he murmured, surprising himself a little. He remembered what she'd been talking about, that feeling of a blossoming friendship. "Well, once I'm- I'm-"

"When you're ready you can give me a call and not one second before," she told him firmly, a tiny smile curving her lips weakly. A moment passed and something in her face changed as she spoke with conviction, "You're strong Blaine. You're going to get through this and if you need anything, you can call me."

Even if he knew it was an offer he wouldn't take up for a while -and probably a long one at that- it was nice. His eyes flickered for a moment. "Why's Finn all the way over there?" His eyes averted to the floor as the little voice in his mind started whispering things to him- the one that sounded much too much like Pierre. "He thinks I'm horrible, doesn't he- for getting Kurt involved- for the things I let Pier-"

"No," Kurt gripped his hand tightly, "first of all you didn't let anyone do anything. You didn't have a choice, remember? As for Finn, we didn't want to overwhelm you. We heard that leaving the hospital was a bit traumatic and- oh hell," Kurt turned his head to call softly, "Hey Finn, come over here."

Finn lumbered over and gave Blaine a small smile, "Hey dude. Glad to have you back." The words were awkward and he couldn't quite tell if they were genuine. The uncertainty must have shown in his face because Finn almost immediately continued, "I'm serious man. Kurt was all miserable without you and you're pretty cool and all. Plus you saved my bro. I'm definitely glad to have you around again."

"Oh," he murmured, blinking slowly and still unsure if he believed any of it.

"Look," Finn's face turned a little red, but it was missing all the classic signs of anger that he'd come to know so well. He assumed the other boy had to be embarrassed then, but he couldn't fathom why. If anyone should be embarrassed it should be him. He was the one who'd let himself believe that the man that was raping him daily loved him. "I'm not really good at this kind of thing," Finn continued. "I suck at expressing um, affection, in like words, to other dudes who aren't Burt or Kurt, cause they're my family, but you're like family too- um-" the other boy seemed at a loss at how to explain himself for a moment. "What I mean to say is, I missed you dude. I'm just really glad you're back and that scary dude can't hurt you anymore-"

"Finn," Kurt gave a warning hiss from his side.

Suddenly Finn veered from the topic of Pierre, "So yeah I really missed you, cause I care about you and stuff."

He almost found himself smiling at Finn's lack of verbal coordination, but couldn't quite manage the real deal, "I care about you and stuff too."

"Cool man, thanks," Finn sank into the little armchair and Blaine spotted his sister wandering over.

Brianna sank onto the ottoman, "I hope I'm not interrupting, but honestly it's a bit stifling over there with all the adults. Joey included."

Blaine just shook his head at her question, unsure of what else to say. The only attention he'd gotten over the past two years was largely negative, but now it seemed like everyone wanted to be around him. It was almost like they all actually missed him.

He squeezed Kurt's hand gently.

"Why don't we fill you in on some of the things you missed?" Kurt suggested, apparently aware of how overwhelmed he felt about being the center of attention.

Pierre had really changed him, he thought with a tinge of shame. He used to love being at the epicenter, surrounded by people, but now he was so used to keeping his head down. He was too used to trying to avoid attention lest Pierre punish him for it that the very thought of a crowd was terrifying.

"That's a great idea," Rachel grinned, before immediately driving into a spiel. "Kurt and I got into NYADA. That's the New York Academy of Dramatic Arts. It's a-MAY-zing. The three of us, me, Finn and Kurt that is, have this tiny little apartment. It's small but still cozy. I'm vocal tutoring some kiddies to make money too. Finn's got a part time mechanic gig and Kurt's a- and get this- barista!" Apparently they were trying to fit two years of information into one short conversation; either that or Rachel was just too excitable.

"I forgot how much she loves to talk," Brianna muttered sharply, just loud enough for all of them to hear and Blaine looked at her oddly. Kurt had said she'd changed, was sharper and more bitter, but the sweet girl he used to know would never deliberately say something like that.

Rachel abruptly stopped talking, looking a little red. "Sorry."

"Bri I thought we talked about this," Kurt pinched the bridge of his nose, sounding an awful lot like a stressed parent. If it had happened two years ago it would have amused him.

"It's hard. Being a bitch made people leave me alone about- well everything, but I've been trying, really," her voice softened. "I'm sorry Rachel. You do talk a lot, but you've got a great voice so it's not so bad."

Rachel smiled back a little at the younger girl, "Thanks, and maybe you're right and someone else should explain a few things. I just got a little excited."

Kurt smiled a bit too and squeezed Blaine's hand again, "So in other news Santana finally came out and she's dating Brittany now. Brittany even graduated last year; we're all really proud she made it. Sam and Mercedes are dating, have been for a little over a year. Dave's actually here in New York; Dave Karofsky I mean. We don't really talk much anymore; just check in to see if the other's doing okay." He paused, "Um Quinn's at Yale, but Artie's here at the New York Film academy. I'm surprised he hasn't tried calling Finn or Rachel yet considering the way the news has blown up."

"He has. I just kind of ignored him since everything's so hectic," Finn piped up, before giving Blaine a little smile. "Puck's in LA. He's got a pool cleaning business. He's not making tons of money, but you know, enough. I'm actually at the Actors' Studio Drama School. It's pretty sweet. I think one of your friends goes there too. Um, what's his name, Nick?"

Blaine's head swivelled around, "Really? Nick got into the Actors' Studio? He always said it was his pipedream."

"Dude, Duval right? Yeah that's him," Finn gave a bit of a grin.

"So he's probably seen the news," Blaine murmured, before frowning. "I wonder why he hasn't tried to get a hold of me… or anything…"

"Blaine," Kurt drew him gently closer. "You have to remember that the hotel you're staying at is being kept a secret for your safety. My old phone with my old number is who knows where and Nick probably doesn't have Brianna or Joey's numbers. The only way he could try to reach you is through your house and you're not there right now. I'm sure when you get back there will be tons of messages from your friends."

"I could probably find his number on the school registry," Finn brightened a little. "Then you could like see him before you go home or whatever."

He thought for a split second, "Yeah," he nodded his head. "I think I'd like that- to see Nick, but um tomorrow, yeah."

"Sure man, no problem," Finn gave another grin, apparently psyched that he'd found a way to help.

"Everyone's who's seen the news have texted to see if you and Kurt are alright," Rachel piped in quietly. "I've just texted them all and said you're recovering and that you'll contact them when you're ready. Is that okay?"

He nodded. That was perfect, especially if they respected what Rachel had told them.

"I'll probably have to talk to a lot of them tomorrow," Kurt let out a small sigh. "Santana will figure out a way to track down my new number if I don't."

"She already texted me about why you're not answering her. I told her to-" Brianna stopped before she finished and just shrugged, "Well you wouldn't approve of my language, but Santana appreciates someone who can give it as well as she does."

"I'll get to them tomorrow, or the next day, or whenever," Kurt shook his head tiredly and Blaine leaned against his shoulder, pretty exhausted himself. If he were to be honest all this talk was getting to him. It was nice that so many people were apparently concerned, but he was dreading having to talk to them all when it was hard enough just being around four other people and once of them was his own sister.

"You know what," Rachel sat primly and gave Blaine a small smile. "We've all been talking so much and you've been being so quiet. Is there anything you want to talk about Blaine?"

His mind froze for a moment and he felt heat rise in his chest, boiling at him. "You want me to talk about what I've been up to, Rachel?" He asked in a shaky voice.

"I just meant is there any specific topic-"

"Do you want to hear about how he raped me every single day," he asked, his voice still very quiet, and a bit hoarse as his body started to tremble. "Do you want to hear about how he beat me if I struggled even just a little, or said something he didn't like? Do you want to hear about how he cut me, about how he infected me, tainted me, ruined me, broke me? Is that what you wanted to hear?" His voice never raised in volume once, too used to a striking blow if he did. Instead his voice just quaked even harder as the tone lowered and grew softer. "Do you want to hear about how the only time he let me cry was when he was raping me? Otherwise he'd 'give me a reason to' if I shed so much as a tear. How about how he held me down, or tied me down to a bed for an entire month-"

"Stop," Kurt's voice was loud and hoarse and he turned from Finn and Rachel's blank, shocked faces to Kurt. He was crying. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. "I can't Blaine. I can't hear it again. I saw it, I heard it, but I can't anymore. I can't."

He stared. He'd made Kurt cry.

Brianna had risen from the ottoman; her own eyes wet and wrapped her arm tightly around Kurt's shoulders.

"Finn, Rachel, Kurt, I think it's time to go," Carole cut in very softly. "Blaine's been through a lot and probably needs some time, right Sweetheart?"

"Don't make Kurt go," he lowered his head as he let out the soft plea. "Please don't make him go. I'm sorry I upset him. Please."

"I-I'm not going- going to-to leave," Kurt sucked in several deep breaths and apparently managed to supress his tears, at least for the time being. "Please don't try to make me. Let me stay- stay here tonight."

"Kiddo," his father looked pensive and his face was creased with concern. "After this past week and a half, the idea of letting you out of my sight is physically painful. I- I don't know."

"I won't let anything happen to him," Joey spoke up softly, giving both Blaine and Kurt a soft smile in their direction. "I'll protect him with my life, I promise. NYPD has issued me a temporary weapon while I'm here so if anything happens I'll be prepared. Kurt's safe here Mr. Hummel, I promise you that."

Burt looked between Kurt and Joey for a long moment, before a sigh seemed to escape his lips, "I don't like it, but okay." Burt directed his gaze at Kurt, "Text me before you go to bed, okay? And when you get up?"

"I will Dad, promise," Kurt moved over, his body looking stiff, Blaine could only guess it was with the still suppressed tears, as he hugged his father tightly. Blaine watched in relative silence as the other boy embraced his family members one at a time and told them he loved them, including Rachel.

Burt, Carole, and Finn waved at him, apparently frightened of upsetting him further. Rachel just looked at him softly, mouthing 'I'm sorry' before she left.

He watched Kurt as everyone left. The moment that door closed behind him he was shaking again. He'd put on a brave face, just like Blaine had earlier, but now the façade, like his, was falling to pieces.

"We'll be in the bedroom," his mother murmured, before motioning to the rest of his family and leaving him and Kurt alone together.

Kurt sank heavily into the couch and leaned on him just a little, ever aware of his injuries even in distress, and the tears started up again.

He hated himself. The last thing he'd wanted to do was upset Kurt, make him cry. He wrapped his arms around him, ignoring the pain pulling at his stitches when he extended his right arm and pulled Kurt close. "I'm sorry Kurt. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I just- I snapped a little. It was too much. I'm sorry. I should have known-"

Kurt stiffened and stood up straight, looking at him with wide eyes and his body still shaking. "I'm so selfish."

"What? No!" Blaine exclaimed, trying to draw Kurt back into his arms, but Kurt just held stiff. "I am. I'm the one who made you cry and all because I overreacted to a simple quest-"

"No I am," Kurt shook his head, wetness clearly growing in the corners of his eyes, but somehow they didn't fall. "You just spent two years being raped and abused and here you are comforting _me_, apologizing to _me_. Why can't you see how wrong that is? Look _I'm_ sorry Blaine. I'm fine really. I'm just upset- it hurts to hear- to remember how badly you had to suffer."

"You're not fine," Blaine said the words plainly, even though they were quiet and laced with pain. It was the truth in them that was plain. Sure Kurt had a bit of a point, but he knew the other boy wasn't fine. "Pierre beat you and I know firsthand how scary and painful that is. He almost raped you and I know that's terrifying. Even before the first time, just knowing his intentions were terrifying. You can't lie to me Kurt. I know all too well."

"Maybe you're right, but for me it can wait, because the best way for me to heal is to help you." He paused for a moment, his eyes moving aimlessly about Blaine's face as he searched for the words. "It was seeing you in pain that hurt me the most, so seeing you heal- happy- would help me the most. It only makes sense."

"I don't know if that logic actually works," Blaine mumbled quietly, letting Kurt grip his hand again.

"Well let's at least test it out," Kurt straightened his shoulders and looked him directly in the eye. "I want you to tell me what you need, anything. I don't care what it is. You tell me what you need and I'll do it, or get it, or whatever needs to be done."

His head ducked down sharply and the words came mumbled from his mouth automatically, "I don't know."

Kurt gently reached two fingers under his chin to tilt his head back up until their eyes met, glasz to honey, "Yes you do. I see it in your eyes that you're lying, Honey. Please tell me what you need."

"I'm scared," he whispered honestly, surprised that he'd managed to let the words slip. "I'm scared to admit it because- he almost always beat me for it- except when- in bed- I-"

"Blaine what is it?" Kurt asked him, keeping their eyes still locked, before he started speaking again. "It's me Blaine. You know I'd never get mad at you for asking for something you need. Please tell me."

"I need to cry," he blurted in a small voice that quaked with the intensity of his need. "I need to cry and not have anyone yell at me or try to make me shut up, or stop me or shush me. I need to cry Kurt. I need to cry so badly." He desperately needed a real, long, gut-wrenching bawl. It was the only thing he felt might make some of the tension inside him disappear.

He had so much bottled inside him and it was bursting to get out.

"That's okay. I won't stop you," Kurt told him in a very quiet voice. "You can cry as much as you need to Honey. No one will blame you. You've been through so much."

"Will you hold me, and not try to shush me or tell me it's okay? I just need to cry and have someone hold me and tell me the truth," he didn't add that the last two years with Pierre he'd only ever had someone hold him down, except for that one brief embrace from Claire so long ago. "Just hold me?"

"I will. Of course I will." Blaine curled up in Kurt's arms the moment the words left the other boy's lips and felt a sob shake loose from his chest. Another followed soon after until all the pain was bubbling up in his chest and exploding from him in sob after sob.

True to his promise Kurt never told him once that it was okay. He didn't once try to shush him or tell him not to cry. Instead he got constant, gentle whispers of, "I'm here," into his ear. "I'm here. Let it out Honey, let it out."

He felt a tear drop onto his face that wasn't his, but in the end he just curled into Kurt tighter, hoping that Kurt's tears were just as therapeutic as his own.

It wasn't healing, but it was admitting to the pain out loud and in the open- and that was something.

Kurt would stay with him tonight and something told him if he woke up in tears that Kurt would be right there to lull him back to sleep.

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><p><strong>AN**: Don't tell my boss but I brought a notebook to work and wrote part of this while I was supposed to be filing. I still got a lot of filing done, but I also wrote a thousand words of this and planned out the entire hotel scene.

So who can guess the little song reference I made? It was accidental, but I noticed it during the editing process. Kudos to whoever finds it!

Please leave a review!


	27. Chapter 27: Still You

**Summary**: Two years ago Kurt's boyfriend was kidnapped and supposedly murdered. Two years ago Blaine was ripped away and brainwashed into believing his captor loved him. It's two years later and they've been reunited, but it's not everything they imagined it would be.

**Warning**: Non-explicit mentions of non-con. Some violence as well. Also mentions of suicidal thoughts (past mentions).

**A/N**: So as much of you know FF is starting to get ridiculously strict. As a safety measure I have backed up all of my stories (even the one taken down luckily since I always keep a copy. I only lost my edits) and will be slowly but surely migrating them to a livejournal account where my username will also be Nicbearosaurus, starting with the one-shots. If anything happens to my account here you can find me there. The only downfall is I'm still a little lost on how livejournal works but I think I'm figuring it out!

Also I just wanted to let you all know that I really appreciate that you take the time to read my story and I'm trying to thank you the best I can and show you my dedication to this. That's why I got up extra early (aka 4am) to post this, even if it's only 20 minutes earlier than I usually get up! Yeah so I'm blaming how early it is on any mistakes, errors or typos you may find in this chapter.

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><p>Chapter 27: Still you<p>

He hadn't been aware he'd fallen asleep until his eyes fluttered open again in the darkened room. Kurt was breathing softly beside him with his arms loosely wrapped around him.

Blaine bit down on his lip. It was kind of nice; the loose grip letting him know Kurt was there but not restraining him. He could shift out of the embrace if he wanted to; he didn't. Instead he lay still and looked around, moving just his eyes and neck.

His sister had the bed next to the one he was sharing with Kurt, wrapped firmly in a mountain of blankets. She'd always been one who couldn't sleep if she was the least bit chilly. It was nice to see that some things hadn't changed. Joey was on a cot directly in front of the door, protecting them from hypothetical intruders. Then again, it was nice that some things had changed. Joey had never been so outwardly concerned about his safety before or so outwardly affectionate as he had been since the rescue.

He could only assume that his parents had decided to take the adjoining room; still together and still obviously in love. It made him think that maybe sometimes good things _could_ last forever.

Everything was so quiet. All he could hear was the soft breathing of his family members and Kurt in the darkness. It wasn't quite peaceful though and he shifted a little further into Kurt's arms.

He hated the crowds and the noise, but the silence had his chest tightening just the same. Noise instilled fear of violence and angry retribution and sometimes he'd have flashes of a raised hand or fist. The difference was in the silence all those painful thoughts and memories had a chance to fully invade his mind. It was almost worse than a nightmare. You couldn't wake up from a memory.

It didn't seem to matter where he was, or the noise level. No matter what was happening he couldn't seem to find peace. Pierre was always with him.

He turned into Kurt's chest, huddling in the sleeping man's arms as a memory seeped into his mind. It was the first time Pierre had raped him; his muffled pleas, the tears, the pain and the humiliation as his body gave out and he stopped struggling. He wanted Kurt to wake up, distract him somehow or remind him it was over, but he couldn't make himself wake him. Sleep was sacred.

It wasn't that he feared Kurt being angry if he woke him the same way he would have been Pierre. Kurt was one of the only people he knew he didn't have to be afraid of. Yet he was still afraid, just not of Kurt. He didn't want to seem needy or push him away. It already seemed too good to be true that Kurt still wanted him.

He was afraid of Kurt leaving.

So he let Kurt sleep and simply pressed his head lightly against the man's chest as his body trembled just slightly. He wanted the memories to fade away, even for just a couple of minutes. They just wouldn't. Instead the images kept racing through his mind, stark with the phantom pains that had once been so real and somehow still ached. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the pale face and angry blue eyes glaring down at him.

It was like he couldn't believe it had really happened. It had; he knew that or he wouldn't be here surrounded by his family and pressed against Kurt.

His breathing hitched and Kurt shifted in his sleep. He held completely still until he felt Kurt's breath even back out before he let his body relax just a little bit.

"You're not fooling me," a high, soft voice whispered into his ear and he started slightly. "Sorry honey. I didn't mean to startle you."

He tilted his head up and let his eyes find Kurt's. The pale blue-greenish-grey looking down at him had the opposite effect that Pierre's had had. They made him feel just a tiny bit calmer. "I didn't want to wake you. I-I thought you were sleeping…"

Kurt's arms squeezed around him lightly and he shifted, letting his head rest against the man's chest so he was curled on his side and cuddled up close to him. This he could handle, partially because it was Kurt and partially because he was the one on top. Kurt was letting him be in charge of their positioning on the bed.

"I'm a light sleeper Honey, remember? Plus I couldn't sleep that well. I've been worried about you," Kurt murmured down at him, keeping his voice down lest he wake the others in the room.

"Wish you wouldn't," he mumbled, looking down for a long moment. Kurt was already being so perfect. The other boy was giving him something he hadn't had in a long time – a certain amount of control over something physical, even if it was something as small as an embrace. IT wasn't even just that, but that Kurt didn't even seem to realize he was doing it. Somehow Kurt had managed to five him just a bit of ease without making him feel like he was being treated like a piece of crystal on the verge of shattering.

It made him feel almost normal, just for a second.

Blaine knew he couldn't lose that perfection, that elusive comfort, with his neediness.

"Of course I'm going to worry. I love you." Kurt let out a small sigh, "You're going to have to get used to that because I'm not going anywhere, at least not without you. Even if we're apart you know I'm just going to be a phone call away. I'm always going to be around."

He blinked. Kurt had hit dead on the worries in his head and he found himself speaking before he could think about it properly. "How do you know you won't get tired of looking after me?" He didn't realize how need he sounded until the words had left his mouth.

He just couldn't help but flash to his most terrifying days of captivity; the ones just before he'd started convincing himself there was any love in the man. They were the days he feared Pierre was getting tired of him. Then it had meant death. Now it would mean losing the one person who made him feel safe.

Kurt kept going on about how Blaine had saved his life, but Blaine knew differently. Kurt had reminded him what real love was like. Kurt had shown him the truth and forced him to face it even when he didn't want to. Kurt had given him the motivation to stand up to his abuser. He'd always been too afraid to do it for himself, but with Kurt on the line he'd found the strength.

Kurt had given him his life back just by being there. He was the real hero.

He licked his lips and swallowed the lump in his throat as he looked at Kurt's reactions to his words. The pale mouth had dropped open and Kurt was staring down at him. A small tear trickled from the corner of his eye and Blaine frowned at the sight, "Kurt?"

"Do you really think so little of me?"

His heart sunk in his chest, "No. That's not what I meant-"

"You don't really believe that I love you, do you?" Kurt asked; hurt weaving audibly through his voice. "If you did you'd realize that I'm never going to leave you, not even if you ask me to."

"I believe you. I just don't know why you do," the words slipped out of his mouth quietly. "You- you have this whole wonderful life that you're putting on hold for me."

Kurt let out a sigh that sounded a little exasperated. "Blaine I love you. What other answer do you need?"

"How? Kurt I'm a different person now-"

"Do you think I'm the same person I was before you were kidnapped? I'm not. I've changed. I mean look at me; do I look exactly the same?" Kurt asked him, his hand rubbing back his back lightly.

"You might look a little older but that's not what I mean," Blaine shook his head against Kurt's chest and clung to him a little tighter. "I'm not the same person I was before. Rachel said I was charming and fun- I'm not that anymore. Everything changed me- who I was. I mean me on the inside is different and you don't even really know this new me. How can you love me if you don't even know me?"

"You think I'm the same?"

"Who you are is the same," he felt that familiar longing feeling build in his chest; the one that held all the love and affection he felt for Kurt. "You're still the same sassy, moral Kurt that I fell in love with so long ago. It's me that's not the same."

Kurt blinked at him several times, as if he was trying to make sense of his words. "Parts of you have changed, Blaine, but who you are hasn't."

"I really doubt I'm charming and fun," he let the final three words come out tinged with distaste. "I can barely handle talking to four people at once."

"You're still you," Kurt insisted again. The hand left his back and just pulled him close. The movement managed to jerk a flinch out of him as the feeling of restraint started filtering inside him.

He let out a soft, bitter noise, trying to hide how much the tightness of the hug was frightening him, "The old me wouldn't have flinched because you hugged me."

"Well one thing I remember about _the old you_," there was a significant amount of sarcasm inserted into the three words, "is how in love we were. If you still love me then there's still a part of that old you in there. You're still you Blaine. The things that really matter about you are still the same. You're still the same kind, selfless person I remember. Do you really think I didn't see how much hugging Rachel bothered you and yet you told her to hug you because you knew it would make her feel better."

"What I am, is a disaster-"

"Yes, you're a little messed up. You don't think you're worth loving. You're scared of everything and everyone, but that doesn't change how I feel about you. And none of those things are your fault. You've been through so much and you had to change in _response_ to those things. You were abused and terrified and that's not your fault. It's his." Kurt didn't let his grasp lighten, instead still holding him tightly. "No one expects you to just jump back from this. It takes time to heal and maybe you'll never be the same, but that's not going to make me stop loving you. If anything it makes me love you more. You're so strong Honey-"

"It was you that made me do it," Blaine whispered, cutting him off quietly. "If he'd been about to kill me I probably would have let him. You're the one that made me strong enough-"

"And that's exactly what I meant by selfless," Kurt kissed the top of his head gently. "Just trust me on this honey. I love you and that's not going to change."

His body relaxed a little in the embrace and Kurt's arms loosened around him slightly.

"I was hugging you too hard, wasn't I?" Kurt asked after they were silent for several long moments.

"I think I needed it," he admitted after a moment. In a way he had. He'd needed to be reminded that not every tight hold was about trying to cause pain, but a lot of the time it was about not wanting to let go. He didn't blame Kurt. He didn't want to let go either- at least not of Kurt.

"Why don't we try to go back to sleep before we wake everybody up?" Kurt suggested in a soft tone.

His response was to tuck his head under Kurt's chin, letting his ear fall against his chest so he could feel every breath and hear every heartbeat; the proof that Kurt was there, was close.

"I love you," Kurt whispered into his hair breathily. "Please believe me."

"I love you too," he murmured back, decidedly not commenting on the second half of Kurt's words. He couldn't answer honestly and still tell the man what he wanted to hear.

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><p>Finn stared at his phone for a long moment before he pushed it at Rachel who was sitting next to him, "I don't know how to do this. How do you tell a dude that one of his best friends isn't dead anymore- or something like that?"<p>

Rachel let out a long, only slightly irritated sigh. "He probably already knows about Blaine. When Burt turned on the news this morning Blaine's face was plastered all over the TV screen. What he needs to know is that Blaine wants to see him. You know him through school so just call him, alright?"

He let out a disgruntled noise and called the number he'd found for Nicholas Duval on the school registry, before starting to pace slowly around their small living room.

"Hello?" A young man's voice about his own age came tinny through the cell phone, "This is Nick Duval."

"Uh hi Dude. This is Finn, remember from school? I'm a year ahead and um we competed against-"

"I remember you Finn. You're Kurt's step-brother," Nick's voice suddenly became somewhat breathless. "Kurt's with Blaine right? The news said something about them being inseparable since the police found them… They're both okay? I mean there was something about both of them being released from the hospital but the pictures in the paper were- Blaine didn't quite look okay… at least what you could see of him-"

"Dude, stop talking for a minute," Finn cut him off, not unkindly. "Look I told Blaine you go to school here and he's going back to Ohio with his family in a couple of days so I offered to get a hold of you for him. He wants to see you before he goes home and all, since you're actually close by."

There was no answer on the other line.

"Dude?" He stopped pacing and sank down into the loveseat next to Rachel again, who placed a hand on his arm and looked at him questioningly.

"I just thought," Nick's voice was a little halting, "that he wouldn't really want to see anybody for a while. If it was me I'd need some time or something. I'd need time to settle- are you sure he actually wants to see me?"

Finn thought about it for a moment. He'd been the one to suggest it really, but Blaine had seemed interested. "I think so man. Just um- probably not for long or whatever, you know?"

"Yeah," the voice still seemed a bit hesitant.

"I thought he was supposed to be one of your best friends?" Finn asked, his voice not quite accusing but still uncomprehending how Nick could not want to see somehow he'd once been so close with. It didn't make sense.

"He was- is," Nick stopped talking and there was silence except for static for another long moment. "I just- I don't know how to act around him. I don't want to make things worse or anything. How do you- how do you even behave around someone who's been through all that?"

"Treat him like your friend," Finn stated what was, to him, the most obvious thing in the world. "He's your friend so treat him like one. Just don't try to hit him playfully or anything and don't surprise him, but I mean other than that he's still your friend, right?"

"Yeah I guess." Nick was still quiet, before asking, "Do you have the number I can reach him at, or his parents or something?"

Finn gave him the number before adding another reminder that he hoped made more sense to the other guy than it did to him. "He's the same guy, man, just kind of different, you know? He's still like, Blaine."

"Thanks for calling me Finn," Nick seemed unwilling to comment on that last part. "I'll give Blaine a call and see if he still wants to meet up. Take care."

"Yeah, you too man," he hung up the phone and looked at Rachel. "You probably should have done that. I suck at talking to people-"

"I think you summed it up perfectly," she broke in softly, squeezing his arm. "If Blaine's ever going to get back to some semblance of normal then people are going to have to treat him normally- at least to some point. I mean obviously there are some things that obviously need to be attended to, but a normal life- it's probably what he wants most- if you think about it. If we treat him like glass then eventually he's going to break."

"We can't just pretend everything's the same either-"

"No," she agreed softly, "we can't."

"So we what?"

"Well, you and I have time to figure it out," she murmured, chewing on her lip for a long moment. "Not everyone else has that."

"So what do we do?"

Her face crumpled slightly, "I don't know Finn. I don't think there's anything we _can_ do but hope. Blaine- he's got to be strong to be- to still be here- alive. I guess- we just have to have faith. I really don't know Finn. I just don't know."

He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close, "I love you; you know that? I love you so much Rachel. I'm glad- I'm glad you're here and you're mine and you're okay-"

Rachel's brow furrowed as she looked at him, confusion at his sudden outburst lining her face, "Finn?"

"It's just Kurt's not as lucky as I am. I mean Blaine's back now but it's not the same and I'm just so- Goddamn grateful, you know? I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you- if I lost you. I don't know how Kurt survived and I know he loves Blaine just as much as I love you and-" Rachel placed a finger on his lips, shushing him.

Tears were tingling in both of their eyes and she sniffed slightly. "I know what you're trying to say. I love you too."

She knew exactly what was going on inside her boyfriend's head. Seeing someone else lose so much really had the power to make you realize just how good you had it. Seeing them get it back, but broken, only increased that appreciation tenfold. She felt it too, mingled in with the pain tangled up in her chest at the haunted look she'd seen in both Blaine and Kurt's eyes only yesterday.

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><p><strong>AN**: Yeah so I went a little Finchel on this chapter. I hope you don't mind. They're not going to have a huge part from now on so I needed a little scene just to show how this whole mess has been affecting them too. Next chapter is going to have some Nick stuff and probably Kurt talking to some of the ND gang like Santana. I have to admit while Kurt and Blaine are my favourite characters I have some of the most fun with the others. Finn for example, I love writing Finn because of his speech patterns and I get to play around with it a bit more. Santana's fun too with her snark and wit.

I'm sorry if the story's moving a little slowly right now but there's so much going on in my head and I keep getting these amazing suggestions from you guys so I've got a bunch of things planned. Basically this is probably going to be a long story.

Please leave me a review!


	28. Chapter 28: Imbedded Memories

**Warning**: Non-explicit mentions of non-con. Some violence as well. Also mentions of suicidal thoughts (past mentions).

**A/N**: So if you were wondering why this wasn't up on Tuesday I've decided to switch to updating on Fridays but messaging everyone who reviewed was just going to take too much time, especially since the site won't let you copy and paste personal messages because they think I'm spamming or something. Anyway basically on Tuesdays I don't get home until almost five in the afternoon and I'm getting ready for bed three hours later. I have long work hours and an hour commute so I get super tired. Saturdays I have off so I can stay up later on Friday nights, so I have more time to edit, or even write the chapter depending on how busy my week was. My work term ends in four weeks though so hopefully then there were be a lot less delays.

Sorry to those who didn't know why I didn't update on Tuesday. I just didn't have the time, but Fridays are definitely going to be easier. This chapter would have been up three hours earlier if my brother hadn't distracted me. So yeah, blame him, haha.

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><p>Chapter 28 – Imbedded Memories<p>

He wasn't quite sure how he was supposed to do this, but he sat close to Kurt on the couch as his knee bounced slightly in agitation. A hand dropped onto the spot just above his knee and he stilled his movement, looking over at Kurt nervously as they waited.

"It's Nick, honey. You don't have to worry so much," Kurt reassured him softly and he gave him a weak, shaky smile. A small pause of silence passed before Kurt reminded him quietly, "You can change your mind at any time if it's too much. Nick'll understand. You know that."

"I want to do this," he murmured, pressing his side closer to Kurt. "I'm just- not sure I know how."

"It's just like with Finn and Rachel," the voice was soft and even in his ear. "Your family's just downstairs and I'll be right here with you. All you need to do it focus on you, okay? You just have to let us know when it's too much and we can ask him to leave."

He swallowed. Nick had been one of his closest friends in the Warblers. He wanted to see him in spite of how much his stomach was nervously twisting. The issue was that once he was here he wasn't sure he could ask the other boy to leave, even if it did get to be too much.

It wasn't that he was afraid of him, but he knew his anxiety level was through the roof. He also knew if he panicked and asked the other boy to leave that Nick would be upset. The other boy probably wouldn't blame him, but he would. Everyone who saw him, who knew what he'd endured seemed to be pained by it. He was causing them to hurt and he _hated_ it.

"I don't-" he paused as he tried to put his feelings into words. It was harder than he expected and he just shook his head.

"Blaine, no one will blame you if you can't right now."

He turned his head and stared for a moment at Kurt's face, as pale and handsome as he remembered and marred with mottled bruises. His eyes trailed down the other boy's neck where there were only a couple some purple bruises, before he raised his gaze back up to Kurt's eyes. "_I_ blame me."

"Hey," Kurt whispered softly, a hand cupping his chin very gently and guiding his head back up when he immediately dropped his gaze with the words, "you have nothing to blame yourself for, remember?"

His top teeth dragged over his lower lip and he sucked in a deep breath through his nose, trying to bring the words into his body to calm him. He wasn't quite sure if he actually believed it, but he nodded his head slowly and forced out another weak smile.

He was sure that soon he will have faked it so long that even he would believe it; except for the fact that Kurt always seemed to see the pain behind it immediately. Of course the pain was a constant aching tightness across his chest that never seemed to ease or cease. He would be surprised if anyone couldn't see it. It felt like it was practically radiating from his body and infecting to everyone around him.

His pain was infectious. _He_ felt infectious too; diseased. Technically he still had a sexually transmitted disease, but somehow it felt more than that, even if he couldn't explain it even to himself.

Well he could, he just hated to consciously think about it. Unconsciously it was always there. There seemed to be no fixing it. He felt dirty and diseased because he could still feel Pierre's hands, his touch and the creeping, crawling feeling it sent into and underneath his skin.

"I just don't want to hurt his feelings. If I ask him to leave- I-"

"How about this," Kurt shifted so he was facing him a little bit more and squeezed his hand gently, "if it's too much just take my hand and tap your thumb on it three times and I'll make something up, alright? He doesn't have to know the real reason why, okay?"

"I can't ask you to do that-"

"You're not asking me to. I'm offering," the other boy smiled at him gently. "I love you and I'm going to do whatever you need to make you more comfortable. I know you want to see Nick and I know it might be a lot for you so I'm doing this for you."

"Kurt," he whispered, feeling his face tighten hotly as tears built up behind his eyes, "I honestly don't know what I'd do without you- or- or what- you're just- how do you know just what to say or do? I don't know what I'm doing and-"

"I don't know either," he watched as Kurt's face curled in a grimacing smile. "I'm kind of flying by the seat of my pants here. It's all guesses Blaine. It's just trying to imagine what I would want if it was me, that's all." The other boy squeezed his hand again, "Nick's going to be here soon. Maybe we should wait to talk about this Honey?"

He nodded his head softly, before leaning against Kurt's side. The taller boy gently slipped an arm around his back and let him relax completely with the support. It was almost like with that little support of his body that Kurt was supporting the rest of him too.

There was a knock on the door and his body stiffened slightly even though he knew exactly who it had to be. His eyes flickered from Kurt to the door where his sister was answering it for a moment, before straightening his body a little. Kurt's arm tightened around his waist gently and he shifted a little closer even as he brought his attention back to where Brianna was ushering Nick into the hotel room, before quickly leaving. He couldn't help but be grateful for his family's willingness to give him some privacy and go down to the restaurant for breakfast with the promise to bring some back up for him and Kurt.

"Hey man," Nick stood awkwardly several feet away, shuffling his feet slightly. The other former Warbler didn't look like he'd changed at all. At least not physically. He couldn't remember Nick ever calling someone 'man' before. "I'm really glad you had Finn call me. When I heard everything I was worried and- you know?"

He blinked slowly, "Um, I guess." He stood up and let out a wince of pain as his side let out a nasty twinge as his stitches pulled on his skin. He looked down at the floor for a minute and extended a hand uneasily, "It's nice to see you Nick-"

"Just wish the circumstances were better, huh?" Nick's smiled looked terribly forced as his hand squeezed over his momentarily. Almost immediately Blaine found his hand flinching away, his muscle memory expecting the painful warning squeezes he used to get whenever Pierre brought him out in public.

"Sorry," he pushed his hand out again for another shake.

"Blaine, it's alright if you don't want to," Nick told him quietly. "Why don't we just talk? I've missed hanging out with you, just talking and everything."

"Yeah," he faked a smile, trying to make it look as bright as possible and sank back down in the couch next to Kurt, motioning slightly to the armchair. "You could tell me about what our friends are up to? Kurt's already filled me in on the New Directions and- I really miss the Warblers."

He could do this. He could pretend to be okay. Maybe if he pretended long enough that it would become real.

"Well you probably already know I got into the Actors' Studio," Nick spoke, still smiling uncomfortably. "Thad's at DeVry, studying Business Admin. He's doing something in Finance. You know how Thad is with math. It's ridiculous."

He faked a short laugh, speaking softly, "Yeah. I always thought he'd do something like that." He chewed his lip, before forcing himself to stop. "What's Wes up to?"

"Harvard, just like we all knew he would," the smile looked positively painful by now.

"I heard he took a year off," Blaine's voice was soft, "because of what happened to me."

"Yeah," the smile fell from Nick's face and there was a small sigh. "I don't know if I can do this Blaine. I can't just pretend everything's alright. I-" the other boy stopped abruptly and shook his head slightly. "I just can't imagine what- what you must be feeling or-"

"I don't really want to talk about it," he lowered his head for a moment, reaching over to squeeze Kurt's hand but not tapping his thumb. He just needed the anchor to ground him. "Can't we just keep talking about our friends?"

"I- okay of course." Blaine could clearly see how the change in Nick's words coincided with a short warning look from Kurt. There was a pause of uneasy silence, "Jeff's at Georgetown; the performing arts program. He got the lead part in their Winter musical. He's really excited."

He tried to feign some excitement, knowing Nick would be proud of his best friend's accomplishment. He was proud too, he just couldn't muster up the emotional response yet. His mind seemed too busy with all the other emotions constantly threatening to overwhelm him to focus on something like pride. He pasted a bigger than usual smile onto his face, trying to inject some enthusiasm into his voice and falling slightly short, "That's great news. I know he always tried really hard for those solos in the Warblers. I'm glad he finally managed to find a place to shine."

"Yeah, he's really excited to hear you're okay-" Nick stopped for a moment, before looking at him curiously. "You are okay, aren't you?"

Blaine stared for a long moment. It was a question he'd both been expecting and dreading. For the most part no had yet asking him outright if he was okay. They'd all asked if he was 'going to be' or just assumed he wasn't.

He wasn't quite sure how to answer. Instead he just felt his chest tighten unbearably as his breathing slowly became faster and felt like despite the constant inhales that he couldn't suck in enough oxygen. "I-" he tapped his thumb on Kurt's hand three times in quick succession.

"Nick," Kurt interrupted quietly, rubbing his own thumb over the back of Blaine's hand in comfort and reaching to grasp his ribs lightly with the other hand, "my ribs are starting to throb and I'm getting a massive headache. I think I need to lay down somewhere quiet. I hate to ask you to leave, but-"

"I understand," Nick stood up, shifting his weight from side to side, looking a little nervous and almost thankful it was nearly over. "I never expected it to be a long reunion anyway. I'm just glad I got to see you both for myself. Maybe Thanksgiving we can all hang out, gather some of the Warblers and the New Directions together if you're both up for it?"

"Just give us a call or a text," Kurt agreed softly. The other boy squeezed his hand comfortingly before standing and drawing Nick into a brief hug. "We'll see you in a couple months, or we can Skype or something."

"Yeah," Nick nodded his head before looking towards Blaine nervously, his arms shifting slightly as if he wanted to hug him.

He stood up, still finding his breath coming in shallow and fast, but still trying to gather up the courage to accept even a short embrace. As soon as the other boy's arms came forward he found himself stumbling back. Letting a family member or a female hug him briefly was one thing, but the moment he came within the other boy's personal space he found his body freezing in fear and vying to get away. "I'm sorry Nick," his voice squeaked a little with the words, "I just can't."

"It's okay. I just hoped, that's all," Nick gave him a small half smile, his voice laced with hurt. "Maybe next time, huh?"

"Maybe," he whispered, his voice tight and hoarse. "I'm really sorry Nick. It's just so hard. Kurt- he was there with me for some of it-"

"You don't have to explain," Nick stopped him gently, his throat moving with a thick swallow. "I get it- well as much as I can anyway. I'll see you around Blaine. Take care of yourself, okay?"

"Yeah," he smiled shakily, wishing the other boy was gone already. It sent a crawling guilt into his gut, but it didn't compare to the anxiety seeping into his limbs, making his body starting to tremble.

"I'll go," Nick turned awkwardly to leave. He saw Kurt move as if to walk him out, but instead turned to him and rubbed his arms gently, being careful to avoid hitting the bandages around his stitches.

Instead of seeing Nick leave, he heard the door open and a soft voice murmuring quietly, "I missed you Blaine. I hope you know that."

"I missed you too," for once he didn't have to force the emotion in his voice. He swallowed the thick lump in his throat as the door to the hotel closed and let Kurt gently push him back down into a sitting position on the couch. "Th-thank you Kurt. I- it was too much."

"It's alright," Kurt cuddled him closely, rocking him gently and rubbing the tremors from his back. "It's been a busy few days. I can only imagine how weird and hard this all must be. It's only going to get better from here though, I promise. And even if sometimes it doesn't feel that way I'm going to be here to get you through it until it does."

The close contact eased some of his panic and for a moment he found it ironic. Close contact had been what caused the anxiety, but just having Kurt near him was making his body starting to calm and relax. The other boy had truly become a way to anchor himself. It didn't quite take away the pain, but it felt more bearable knowing that there was someone he could trust there to help him bear it.

He wasn't alone anymore.

"Baby I hate to say it," Kurt murmured after a long moment of just soothing him, "but I have to go soon. I have to start packing before I go back to Ohio. I don't want to be away from you for long, especially in separate states."

And suddenly he would be alone again. His heart tightened hard in his chest, squeezed painfully in a vice.

"My flight's tomorrow," he commented weakly.

"I know," Kurt grimaced a little, looking uneasy. "I don't like the idea of us being in separate states for long, so the sooner I get my things ready to go to Lima the better. I'll come spend the night with you again if it's alright with your parents and see you off at the airport?"

"That would be nice," he clung to Kurt tightly. If there was anything he was sure he wanted it was for Kurt not to leave. He could almost feel the anxiety rebuilding at the very thought of being away from his anchor.

"It should only be a couple of days," Kurt comforted softly, continuing to rub his back in large, slow circles. "You'll still have your family with you. You won't be alone."

"I know," he let out a long sigh, trying desperately to relax as another thought entered his head. He swallowed the thick lump in his throat. "I kind of want to go visit Claire's grave. She-she's-" he found his voice faltering as the imbedded image of the woman gasping for breath invaded his mind afresh, "-She's the one that tried to help me. The one- the one Pierre killed in front of me."

"You should." Kurt affirmed for him in a quiet voice. "I kind of think you need to." There was a short pause as Kurt pulled back and his concerned eyes locked on Blaine's. "I think maybe there are things you need to say to her."

He nodded his head, squeezing his eyes shut tightly for a long moment to try and seal back the wetness. "I need- I need to tell her I'm sorry."

"You've got a lot of guilt," Kurt cuddled him even more closely. "You shouldn't feel that way because it wasn't your fault, but I think you do need the closure Honey."

"I barely knew her," his voice cracked roughly and his breathing hitched a little. "I just- it's still like I didn't get to say goodbye. He just- he killed her and she died and I couldn't even say goodbye to her or thank her properly or tell her I was sorry-" the words were coming out faster and faster until Kurt gently stopped him.

"Hey, hey," the other boy hushed him, "you can tell her whatever you need to tell her when you go see her. You can goodbye, thank her, whatever you need. I don't think you need to apologize though honey. You didn't do anything wrong."

"That's not how it feels," his chest squeezed again and his stomach turned a little, remembering the blood that had so thickly coated his hands when he'd tried to stop the bleeding in her throat. If she'd never met him, if he never stopped her on the street, she'd still be alive.

"If you really think you need to and if it'll make you feel better than you do that," Kurt told him firmly, "but some day you're going to realize you didn't do anything wrong."

"Would you come with me?" The words blurted from his lips even before he thought about it.

"If you really want me to, but somehow I don't think you really do," Kurt's voice was careful as he spoke, pulling back from the embrace slightly- still holding him but not cuddling him quite so close. "I think maybe it's something _you_ need to do. I wouldn't want to intrude on something so important to you-"

"You're important to me," he whispered quietly.

"I know. I mean I think maybe this time it's something you need to do for you. Be honest. Do you really want me there? I could never understand what you went through. It might be something you best do with your family, or on your own, but if you _really _want me there then that's where I'll be."

"I think I want to do it on my own as much as possible," he agreed, sniffling a little bit and swallowing down a thick much as he needed Kurt, he knew that he had to be able to survive away from him for short periods of time. As much as Kurt said he loved him and as much as he hated it, he knew that it was just impossible for the boy to always be at his side, "I'm just going to miss you, even if it's only until tonight for now."

"I'm going to miss you too," Kurt hugged him closely again briefly, "but now we can see each other whenever we need to. No one is ever going to keep us apart again. You have to believe me on that."

He nodded his head, thinking for a moment that he just might be starting to believe it. So far Kurt hadn't let him down once; had somehow instinctively known what he needed when he didn't. He could visit Claire's grave and hopefully it would give him some sort of closure; take the weight of the guilt from his chest. Then- well he'd have one more night with Kurt until they had to separate for those few days.

That was the part he didn't know if he could survive, even if he had to.

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><p>Finding the grave was almost easier than he expected. Between the well kept grass her name seemed to stand out against the stone and his eyes almost immediately found it among the other graves. Without thought he stepped away from his family and stood in front of the stone that now symbolized what had once been a living, breathing, selfless human being.<p>

_Claire Masterson, Beloved Daughter, Sister, Friend._ _12__th__ January 1980 – 18__th__ February 2012. _Blaine read the epitaph carefully, drawing his lower lip between his teeth carefully. Silently he moved down onto his knees in front of the tombstone and laid down the flowers against them.

"Hey Claire," he whispered, still quite aware that his parents were standing off to the side of the grave with his brother and sister. They were listening, but he couldn't make himself care. He didn't know if Claire could hear him, but he needed to speak to her. "I-I- I'm safe now. I know- I know you tried so hard to help me and I'm so sorry I didn't listen to you. I just- I wanted- I needed you to know that I'm so thankful for everything you tried to do for me. You- you were so wonderful and I wish I wasn't thanking a grave right now," tears started streaking down his face as he spoke to the stone. "You saved me. Even if you didn't get me out then- you gave me a little bit of hope that someone- somewhere would still care- even if they didn't know me. You cared for me, a stranger, some random kid you found on the street and it means everything to me." He reached out and touched the smooth surface, "I wish there were more people like you in the world- and I hate that because of me there's one less-"

A hand rested on his shoulder and he looked up momentarily. Joey was standing at his side and the other man hesitated a moment before getting down on his knees too. "Don't listen to that last comment Claire-" Joey spoke haltingly. "You and I both know the only reason you're gone is because Jean-Pierre LaMontone was a sick bastard. I do want to thank you though, for helping my little brother." An arm wrapped around him and pulled him closer to his brother, "You were a good woman- a good friend to my brother during the short time you knew him. Just- thanks."

"It is my fault," Blaine murmured as he let Joey pull him to his feet. "If it wasn't for me-"

"You mean if it wasn't for Pierre," Joey corrected him gently, moving his arm so it was around his shoulders rather than his waist. "That man kidnapped you. That man held the knife. You were a victim Blaine, just like Claire was. That's not your fault. That's his."

"Excuse me," a woman's voice cut as she strode down the thin lane between the rows of graves. Her hair was in curls and tied back in a loose ponytail. She was also holding a small bouquet of pink chrysanthemums. "Hi, I'm Alice. Did- did you know my sister?"

Blaine stared at her blankly, a little in shock and completely unsure of what to say.

"My brother Blaine knew her- for a short time," Joey's arm gently squeezed around him again. "My family and I were just paying our respects before we left town. We- we owe her a great deal."

"The police called me a few days ago to tell me that they found out my sister died trying to protect a boy who was being abused," Alice spoke slowly as her eyes studied Blaine's face and the fading bruises and lingering cuts. "I'm guessing that was you."

His eyes fell, averting his gaze to the ground, "I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't be. That's just the way Claire was," Alice smiled at him with a mixture of kindness and sadness. "I think she'd be glad to know that you're back with your family now." The woman sniffed and gave a strained smile as her eyes watered, "It helps me to know my sister died doing something good- and that it wasn't in vain-"

He blinked at her for a long moment, "I don't understand."

"She didn't die for nothing," a single tear trickled down the woman's face. "For so long I asked myself why and I was so angry and I didn't know who to be angry with. Now I know who took her from me and I know that man's never going to hurt anyone again. I just- it may sound odd but I feel better knowing she was trying to help you. If it had been for nothing-"

"I-" he opened and closed his mouth, a little in shock and just purely without words. "I don't know what to say."

"Just don't forget my sister," she told him softly, laying down her own bouquet of flowers in front of Claire's grave, "that's all I could ever ask of you Blaine."

"I couldn't-"

"Not how she died Sweetie," she shook her head softly. "She wouldn't like that. I think she'd rather you remember her in the time you knew her before, no matter how short it was."

He averted his eyes again, just murmuring, "I'll try."

Remembering the sweetness and caring the woman had provided would certainly be less painful than the bloody scene that seemed so stuck in his mind. He just wasn't sure he could let that go. He'd been holding onto the pain and guilt for so long that to let go of it felt like he was letting go of a part of himself.

He could only try.

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><p><strong>AN:** I felt this chapter was getting a little long which is why I didn't involve Santana and some of ND like I originally planned. They should be in the next one though. I always find my chapters end up longer than I expected. I know this story has, even if I like certain parts better than others. Lately I've been feeling it's a little subpar since I'm so tired all the time. I'm probably just being my own worst critic and cranky from lack of sleep. I bet I'll feel better once I'm done this job. Anywho, please review!


	29. Chapter 29: Listen

**Warning**: Non-explicit mentions of non-con. Some violence as well. Also mentions of suicidal thoughts (past mentions).

**A/N**: So are you surprised you're not getting this super late in the day? I'm pretty sure last time the chapter didn't get up until around 12:30am Eastern Time on Saturday even though I was aiming for Friday. That was mostly because I took a nap because I was so tired from work on Friday. However yesterday I made sure to go to bed extra early so I wouldn't need to nap. Also I wrote this chapter while I was _at_ work since I was in the office all by myself and I finished all my work early anyway. That brings us here now with a new chapter!

**P.S.** This would have been up even earlier but for some reason my anti-Virus kept blocking the site. It was freaking annoying!

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><p>Chapter 29: Listen<p>

It didn't feel right anymore, Kurt noticed as he looked around the small bedroom he'd been calling home for the last year. He picked up the photo he kept on his nightstand and sank into a sitting position on his bed. His thumb rubbed over the glass covering, swiping over Blaine's smiling face and gelled down hair.

The boy in the picture and the one he'd left in the hotel room had a significant resemblance, but they no longer looked quite like the same person. Recognition was immediate to him even as he thought back at the boy he'd seen so often during the past week and a half, but as he sat with his eyes on Blaine as he remembered him two years ago he could see the differences.

The photo captured a confident teenager; eyes alight with life despite the numerous insecurities he knew were hiding behind the mask of a smile that was still so genuine. There may have been insecurities, but they were often cancelled out by the optimism that lingered in the open, honest, honey colored eyes.

Those eyes seemed a little darker now when he looked back on the battered boy he left with the Anderson family in the hotel; haunted and much too often filled to the brim with the tears. It was enough to make his heart constrict painfully. It was almost like the Blaine he'd loved so much as a teen was still lost to him.

Kurt's heart constricted even tighter. Wasn't that Blaine's fear; that he wouldn't love the boy Blaine had become? He clenched his jaw, holding his lips in a thin line as he tried to force back the tears brimming up in his eyes. He still loved Blaine. He knew that by the way his heart broke every time he saw Blaine in pain (which lately meant his heart was constantly breaking). He just desperately missed the Blaine that had been relatively happy and unmolested by the world's cruelty.

They'd both experienced some of it before, but it hadn't compared to what Blaine had endured between the moment he'd first been kidnapped and now.

It wasn't fair. They were good people. Blaine was one of the most caring people he'd ever met. It wasn't right that something so horrible happened to someone like him. Hell he wouldn't have wished it on his worst enemy, let alone the person he loved.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. Thinking like this wasn't helping him at all.

Carefully he wrapped the framed photo in a soft scarf as padding and placed it in one of the boxes he'd taken from their storage as he felt his new cell phone start to buzz strongly in his pocket.

He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the name with a bit of a sigh, before sliding his finger along the screen to answer. "Hello Santana."

"Ever think of calling me Lady Lips? I don't like hearing all this crazy shit going on through news bulletins. Tell me what's going on a'fore I ends you," he heard her growl into the phone. Her demanding tone didn't fool him in the slightest. The worry was too clearly evident in her voice.

He'd long ago learned what that sounded like when Brittany had gotten lost in Chicago during their senior year National Glee championship. That had been the last time he'd heard the other girl so worried. If he remembered correctly she'd almost attacked the cop who refused to take them seriously.

The only time before that he heard her sound anything like that was when she had been informed that Blaine had 'died'. Only that time she'd been worried about him.

"Kurt," she used his name this time, her voice sharp, "tell me you're alright."

"I'd be lying," he let out the words in a sigh. "Look Santana, I'm not alright. Would you be if something like this had happened to Britt?"

"Don't even-"

"Exactly," he cut her off softly. "You wouldn't be."

"Just wanted to make sure that asshole didn't beat the crap out of you or something," he heard the girl mutter under her breath. "Look since you and Blaine are alive and shit, I wanna come see for myself."

"Blaine's going home in the morning and I think he's booked for the rest of the day," Kurt told her in a firm voice. "That and I'm pretty sure that all these reunions are starting to take it out of him. Next time you're in Ohio come see us, or Skype or something." There was a growl on the other side of the phone. "Look Santana it's nice that you care. There was a time that I didn't think you were capable, but right now Blaine just needs his family and- and to figure out what to do now."

"Just tell him thanks, alright?" Her voice was still low, but there was a lacing of discomfort through her tone.

His eyebrows furrowed for a moment and he frowned, "For what, exactly?"

"Just tell him it helped, alright?" She let out a frustrated sigh, "I don't want to get into it right now." There was a bit of a pause, "I'll come see you before you go, or are you leaving with lover-boy?"

"I'll be here for a few more days, maybe a week at the longest," he told her in a soft voice. "We'll figure something out."

"I'll bring Britt, she's been worried too," there was another pause and he heard Santana curse under her breath. "I mean: she's been worried… since we caught that news bulletin yesterday."

"Alright then Santana," he weakly smiled despite himself. "Love you too San."

"Yeah whatever," she muttered, before adding, "By the way I mass texted everyone your new number so you might be getting a crap load of calls from everyone. They want to make sure you really are alive and all."

"Gee thanks," he felt his stomach sink a little. That was absolutely the last thing he wanted to deal with right now. Everyone would be asking how he was feeling and if he was okay and he honestly wasn't sure if he had a proper answer for them.

He'd been pretending pretty well for the last couple of days around Blaine and even with his family. He wasn't sure he had his father or step-mother convinced, but really it was Blaine he didn't want to notice. The other boy already had so much guilt. He definitely didn't want to add to it.

The truth was though, that he didn't really feel okay. The memory of how it felt to be pinned under someone he knew was capable of such horrific crimes and knowing his malicious intent still made his body sweat with fear.

His mouth felt suddenly dry and he swallowed thickly, "I think I ought to get back to packing now Santana. I'll talk to you soon okay?"

"I don't know who you think you're fooling. Blaine's not the only reason you're not okay," Santana's voice was uncharacteristically soft. "Don't run yourself raw Kurt. If it hurts, let it out."

He pushed back those feelings and set them aside before speaking firmly, "It was scary, yes, but Santana- what that man did to Blaine- that's what hurts the most. Everything else doesn't come close. I can deal with a few cuts and bruises and a cracked rib, but Blaine –it's different. He's got all that and more-"

"What you don't? Sorry, you're not fooling me Lady. I'm not stupid. If that asshole was raping Blaine what was to stop him from doing the same to you? Try and tell me he didn't at least try?"

He couldn't handle that; not her words or her implication. It was hard enough knowing what had happened to Blaine; what he hadn't been able to stop when he'd been tied up or beaten nearly senseless. He didn't want to discuss what the man had tried to do to him too, not with someone as blunt as Santana. He knew she'd try to be sensitive, but it wasn't really in her nature. "I've got to go Santana-"

"Kurt!"

"Bye." He hung up on her and placed his phone on his vanity before purposely picked up some of the clothing he'd laid out on his bed and began to fold it precisely. He laid the shirt in another box and sank down to his knees, pressing his face into his hands as his phone began to buzz again.

He could only assume it was Santana trying to call him back, or even one of his other friends from high school. He didn't answer it; instead he knelt there hiding his face until the buzzing eventually stopped.

Pausing for a moment Kurt took in a deep breath when the phone didn't ring again. Apparently Blaine wasn't the only one feeling overwhelmed by all the attention the events had caused. It might not compare, but he still knew without a doubt that he didn't want to deal with all the phone calls that were about to come his way.

He couldn't ignore all of them either. As much as he didn't want to deal with any of it, he couldn't make his friends worry any more than they already were.

He rose again, continuing to pack up his bedroom with the silent wish that his phone wouldn't ring. His wish went unheard and his phone began to slowly move along the vanity with the strength of the vibrations. With a wince he picked it up and looked at his caller ID. **_Mercedes Jones is Calling._**

It made him glad he'd thought to program the numbers he'd gotten from Facebook into his phone. Otherwise he would have been answering the phone blindly and honestly he wasn't in the mood for any surprises.

He answered the phone and sat back down on his little twin bed, speaking preemptively, "Hi Mercedes. I'm fine; nothing life-threatening I promise."

"You better be," the concern in her voice was plain. "Sam and I knew the crap Finn gave us about your dad being sick was a lie. The boy can't lie that convincingly. Besides I called the hospitals in Lima, and there was no Burt Hummel listed as a patient. Of course then Artie sent us the link with the news report-" there was a pause, "Boy, why didn't you call me or something? I've been worried sick, Boo."

"I'm sorry Cedes. I've just been preoccupied; Blaine and everything," he explained in a soft voice. "I- my old phone- well I don't exactly know what happened to it except it was 'gotten rid of'. I didn't mean to worry you-"

"Don't be sorry Boo," she let out a sigh that blew static into his ears. "This has probably been really rough on you. I just wanted to check in- hear your voice. I'd rather see your face too but I bet you're probably too busy for Skype right now."

"Yeah, packing and stuff," he murmured in a quiet voice. "I'm moving back to Ohio for a year. Blaine needs me and I need him, so, you know."

"Yeah," her voice was soft and a little tinny. "You wanna talk to Sam for a minute?"

"I- just tell him I'm alright okay? I have- things are really overwhelming right now," he swallowed yet another lump in his throat. "I love you Cedes, take care, alright?"

"You too babe," she murmured, sounding a little quiet. "You're going to see me before Thanksgiving though. I know everyone is coming back then and I am too, but the singer I'm backing right now has a concert in Columbus in three weeks, so I'm going to come see you and Blaine; Sam too. I figure there's going to be so much going on during the holiday that adding to it all then might be a bad idea."

"Mercedes, thank you," he let out a long breath. "That- that's really going to help. I'll see you in a few weeks."

"For sure," she promised, sounding firm. "Now go get packing Boo; and send me a text every now and then to let me know how you're doing, okay?"

"Yes Ma'am," he murmured weakly, "Bye."

"Bye."

He pressed end and set the phone down, thankful the call was over and somehow still glad she'd called. If everyone was like Mercedes he might be able to handle it. She was really trying to make things easier on him and Blaine and she'd let him go without a fight.

The others weren't trying to make things difficult if they decided to call. He knew that without a doubt, but he also had no doubt that they weren't going to know how to deal with the series of events that had so recently transpired. They'd be too overcome with worry. They'd probably even think they were helping, but right now it just wouldn't.

He needed time, a few days at least, to simply process everything.

Something told him he wasn't about to get that.

He couldn't manage to pack now, not with everything running through his mind like a runaway train. He clenched and unclenched his fists for a moment in an attempt to keep himself from starting to tremble. Maybe not dealing with it wasn't a very good idea either. With a thick swallow he walked from his room and down the short hallway before knocking on the bedroom Finn and Rachel shared, "Finn?"

"Yeah Dude?" Finn's voice came slightly muffled from behind the door before it opened, "You alright bro?"

"If I try to talk to you about something do you promise not to freak out or tell Dad?" He asked in a soft voice, his eyes staring into his brother's in an attempt to see if Finn was willing to do this for him.

"I don't know Kurt. Um if this is about the whole kidnapping thing he might need to know-"

"Please," his voice cracked a little and already he could see that Finn's resolve was breaking down.

Finn waved him into his room and sat down on the bed. Kurt crawled up onto it himself and sat cross-legged facing his step-brother. "Dad and Carole-"

"Still out," Finn finished for him in a soft tone. "Rachel's not back from work yet. We have time to talk man- and- and I guess if it's not too bad I could like- forget to mention it to Burt. He did uh, ask me to let him know if I thought you were struggling or whatever."

"I might be just a little, struggling that is," he confessed with a sigh and ran his hand through his hair. He hadn't bothered to style it that day, "but Finn- I don't want to stress him out any more than I already have. I just need to deal with what- what happened I guess."

Finn blinked, looking at him carefully as if he was trying to find signs that he wasn't okay.

"I'm not okay Finn. At least- not in the way most people mean it when they say they're okay," he let out the words quickly before he could decide not to say them. "Will I be? Probably, but I'm not right now. Right now things are really messed up and- and I pretend I'm handling it well, but really my head's a mess and I don't know what to do about it." He paused for a moment to swallow the nervous excess saliva that had built in his mouth. "Blaine's in so much pain and I don't know what to do to make it go away. I'm starting to think that there's nothing I can do to make him feel better. All I can do is be there but it hurts so much to see him like that, and yet I know it would hurt so much more not to be there for him at all. Missing him and not knowing, it hurt so much more. Finn- he's got so much guilt and I can't add to that, I just can't."

"I-" Finn looked at a loss for what to say, "I don't get it. Why's he feel guilty and how could you make him feel guiltier? This doesn't make sense."

"Not much of this whole mess does," he mumbled, more to himself than his brother. He paused softly before speaking a little bit louder. "Blaine feels like it's his fault Pierre kidnapped me since he recognized me, wouldn't and couldn't rob me and that's why I was kidnapped. I've tried to convince him that's not the case. I mean what could he really have done? I- just- I-"

"What do you think would make him feel guiltier?" Finn frowned at his inability to finish, the cogs in his brain turning to try and make a connection.

"Blaine," Kurt let out breathlessly and closed his eyes tight for a moment, "he had to watch, right before the police showed up, as that man- he had me pinned and he was trying to take my clothes off- to- to- he wanted to rape me Finn and-"

"Kurt-" his brother's word came out in a whisper.

"I've been pretending I'm okay because I don't want Blaine to feel bad or guilty, but it still- it scared me Finn. I can't stop thinking about it. If I hadn't called the police right when I did- he would have. Blaine can't know- not yet- that- that- how much it's been um, bothering me. I just couldn't not talk about it any longer." Finn was completely quiet, "Finn?"

"I'm really starting to wish Blaine hadn't killed that guy so I could've," Finn mumbled, his face looked a little bit red. There was another pause as the taller boy bit down on his lip, looking a little uncomfortable. "Kurt I- what do you want me to do? I mean- what can I do? Is there anything that um- might make you, I don't know, feel better?"

"Could you listen," Kurt's voice was very soft, "and just not freak out or tell anyone? Would you do that? I just need to talk about it." He took a deep breath and blinked hard against the uncomfortable tightness building in his chest. "I just need my brother."

"Kurt," Finn mumbled softly, "of course, man. I'm right here and I won't tell anyone about it, especially Burt, if that's what you want."

He nodded briefly with a little nod, "That's what I want."

Finn nodded back at him quickly, "Okay."

He looked down for a long moment, staring at his hands in his lap before he managed to look up again, "I knew the police were coming. I'd already called them on one of the phones he made Blaine buy to call Dad, but- I didn't think they'd make it in time."

Finn's mouth turned downward in a serious frown as he spoke.

"I was fighting Finn. I was fighting so hard. When he hit me before I didn't fight because I was too scared for Blaine; the last time I'd done something he didn't like he'd threatened to kill him and that was the last time I thought about struggling at all. This time was different though. He- he gave me permission. He wanted to see me struggle to get away. He- he- before he was happy when Blaine told him no- when Blaine said he wouldn't bring me to his room. It- I saw him _smile _when Blaine tried to push him away-"

"I don't get it-"

"He got off on it Finn. He liked watching me try to get away and- and be so desperate. It had to have been the same with Blaine. It wasn't about sex Finn; that's not what he liked. He liked the fact it would have been rape." Kurt explained, his face hot and tingling with held back tears. "He even said that out loud once, to Blaine, before he went to get the ransom."

Finn's jaw tensed and the little vein in his forehead seemed to pulse. Kurt could very visibly tell the other boy was holding back how angry this information had to be making him.

"I fought him, Finn. I fought him and I bit him and I kicked him but nothing worked. Blaine- he couldn't help me either. It was obvious that man had beaten him while he was raping him and- and it looked like he tried to strangle him too. He- his hands were tied to the end of the bed too. There- there was nothing either of us could do even he pushed me onto the bed and pinned me down and started trying to take off my shirt." He stopped and looked down at the bed again, his face tight with the effort it had taken him not to burst into tears as he told his brother what had happened. "The sirens made him stop and he took us out into the living room. He aimed his gun at me and-"

"That's when Blaine like saved you, right?" Finn asked in a quiet voice when he didn't finish.

"Yeah, he grabbed the gun and somehow managed to get it away from P-Pierre even with his hands tied. He- he freaked out a little. He finally seemed to realize that Pierre didn't love him and- that bastard- he tried to convince Blaine that he did and when he couldn't- he called Blaine weak and easy and tried to break my neck," he explained, his voice thick as his stomach churned uncomfortably at the memory. "That's when Blaine shot him."

"Dude," was apparently all his brother could say.

"Yeah," his mouth twitched weakly. "I just- I honestly thought I was going to die. I thought that would be my last moment and everything would be over, but a part of me- a part of me was thankful he hadn't- he'd stopped what he was doing- that I'd die before he could ever touch me again."

The arms that were suddenly wrapped tight around him were startling but otherwise not unwelcome as he murmured, "There was a time before- the first day- he touched me and I- it wasn't much. Blaine stopped him but I- it still freaks me out because I know he could've. It could have been so much worse and I know that, but that's partly the reason it hurts so much. At the time I thought he would."

"I- Kurt- I wish- man I wish I could help you-" Finn mumbled out, holding him tightly for another moment before drawing back.

"You are," he weakly smiled. "Just talking about it helps a little. I- just thanks Finn."

It was out now. Someone other than the detective that took his statement knew exactly what had happened. It was like a giant weight had been lifted from his chest; even if there was still a second one weighted there that probably wouldn't lift for a long time.

"I don't know what I did," Finn mumbled quietly, "but you're welcome."

"You listened," he let out a deep breath, "that was enough."

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><p><strong>An**: Was this chapter entirely Kurt? Yes it was. Oops. More Blainers in the next chapter though. It's going to be time for him to take a plane ride to Ohio, without Kurt!

Also, I do take suggestions into account however I'm keeping canon pairings for the most part (at least what was canon when I started writing). I do plan on having the majority of Blaine's friends mentioned/appearing in some way or another sometime in the story, but it may not happen for several chapters. I love your suggestions and I will use them if they work with what I already have planned to write. I read each and every one so please keep them coming.

Leave me a review, please and thank you.


	30. Chapter 30: Every Second of Every Day

**Warning**: Non-explicit mentions of non-con. Some violence as well. Also mentions of suicidal thoughts (past mentions).

**A/N**: So I know this was supposed to be up Friday and it's now Saturday, but honestly lately works been a little crazy. The good news is I only have two more weeks of working full time so after that's done I shouldn't be posting late so often anymore.

Also this chapter gave me a lot of trouble. I knew what I wanted to do, but it was getting it out that was hard. I can't wait for full time work to be over so I can write into the wee hours of the morning again. For some reason I always seem to be inspired to write then!

Yeah and I'm sorry if there are typos. I may have typed part of this in the dark.

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><p>Chapter 30: Every Second of Every Day<p>

This was the part he was dreading.

Blaine stepped into the airport, his family surrounding him like a guard along with Kurt and Burt. For the most part it kept him separated from the crowd of other travelers and it seemed like the press either had lost interest or hadn't figured out when they were leaving.

It made things easier, but it didn't change that he was about to leave New York, and Kurt. It wasn't like he'd enjoyed living there; he wasn't even sure he could really call it living when all he'd been doing was trying to survive his time there. It was more that part of him was still terrified of what Pierre would have called disobedience.

Running away, leaving, was forbidden and he was leaving New York.

It was almost like the final act of disobedience. Even though he knew the man was dead and that he'd pulled the trigger with his own finger, he felt like suddenly Pierre would pop up and punish him for trying to leave.

He had to mentally reassure himself over and over with the phrases _'He's dead. He can't hurt me anymore. He's dead. It's over.'_

Somehow it didn't seem to be helping. Nothing, except the sure feeling of Kurt's fingers encircling his own and the knowledge that he was surrounded by people who loved him, did.

That was something in itself; the knowledge, the feeling that he was loved and that that love was not conditional. The idea was still something that seemed to be more than his brain could comprehend but somehow he believed it. It was that belief that made him hold out hope that maybe things could become better. Of course the moment that idea ran through his mind, it ran right out again as the memory of ropes around his wrists and ankles and oppressing weight became apparent.

Kurt's fingers squeezed his and as if the other boy was reading his mind murmured to him, "It's over now Honey. You're going home."

The words broke him out of the memory, at least for the moment, and he blinked to clear his head. "I know. At least, I think I do. I just- I'm- I'm going to miss you." He wrapped his arms tightly around the other boy, "Please I don't want to go. Let me stay with you and we'll go back to Ohio together-"

"Blaine your family needs you. They just got you back and you know you need them too."

"I need you-"

"And you'll have me- in a week." He could tell Kurt's words were meant to be comforting, but they didn't seem to help even as Kurt returned the embrace tightly. "I love you Blaine. I love you so much and I wish I could never let you out of my sight again, trust me on that, but I know it's not possible. I know it's not something that's good or useful for our relationship. I'll be back with you soon, you know that."

Their entire group had stopped walking by this point as they spoke, although his father and brother had broken away to check in their luggage, not that he personally had much. His mother, sister and Burt however were standing only a few feet away and listening in quietly. He lowered his voice to a murmur and sniffed just slightly, "I don't want to be without you. You said you'd be here if I needed you. You said-"

Kurt couldn't abandon him, not after all of those promises.

"I will be. All you have to do is call me and I'll be there soon, I promise," Kurt murmured back. He could tell the words were meant to be reassuring, but they weren't settling the way he wanted them to. "I love you Blaine. I'll be with you again soon. You trust me right?"

He swallowed thickly and scraped his teeth over his bottom lip for a moment as a long pause of silence followed. He waited another moment as images of raised hands, yelling and lies invaded his brain so vividly that he had to take a minute step back.

"Blaine?" Kurt's face creased in concern.

"I'm sorry. I do trust you, I do-" he looked down at his hands for a moment, "It's just hard, that's all." He licked his lips nervously, before raising his head to look Kurt in the eyes and admitting softly, "I just don't know what I'm going to do without you. Kurt you- you make me feel safe." The words were in a whisper, trying to keep his voice low enough that no one else would hear.

Kurt's arms winded around him again tightly, "You're going to be fine, Honey. It'll be okay. You've got your family to help you and I'll be with you again soon. It's only a week and I'll call you every day and we can Skype. You'll see, it'll be okay and before you know it I'll be there too."

He wasn't quite as certain everything would be okay. As a matter of fact he wasn't so sure Kurt believed it either by the way his voice had wavered as he spoke. His own voice wavered even more so when he mumbled out, "Okay. I-I love you."

"I love you too, forever," Kurt promised with a gentle squeeze.

His brother and father were coming back with their boarding passes and he felt his body start to tense up again. "Are you sure I can't stay-"

"It's time to go home son," his father's voice was low and soft.

"Kurt?"

"It's just a week. I'll call you," the other boy kissed his cheek but he felt himself jerk back from the gentle brush of his lips. "Blaine honey-"

"You don't understand," he whispered as his dad's leading arm started to turn him away and towards security.

He couldn't leave New York. It may not be a place where he felt particularly safe, but leaving was even more dangerous. Pierre would kill him.

"Dad let me stay," he pleaded in a quiet tone. "I don't want to go-"

His father stopped and he watched as his dad glanced back towards Kurt, "Is that true Buddy?"

He blinked his eyes slowly. All he'd ever wanted when he was stuck in that apartment was to go home to his family- to sleep in his own bed without worrying about someone creeping into his room at night or being called into Pierre's bedroom.

Now it was just fear keeping him here. That and Kurt. He looked back for a moment, his eyes catching on Kurt's. The other boy sent him an encouraging smile and a wave. He let his own mouth twitch weakly and silently waved back, before looking back at his father. "No," he admitted thickly. He paused again for a long moment, "I'm just- I feel like- he'd be mad."

"Kurt's not going to be upset with you-"

"Not Kurt," he whispered hoarsely.

"Oh," his father seemed at a loss for a long moment as they stood in line to be processed by airport security. Then the words came slowly and carefully from his father's mouth, "Try not to think about that right now Blaine. He can't hurt you anymore. He's gone and even if he wasn't do you really think any of us would ever let him hurt you?"

He didn't remind his father that they hadn't been able to protect him before. Somehow he knew he didn't need to. Instead he just nodded softly, not really feeling any better about the situation. Part of him couldn't comprehend the fact that the man who'd seemed to have the power to find him no matter where he went- had controlled whether he lived or died for years, could have possibly be killed by someone like him.

Instead he turned his attention silently to the TSA agents sending people through airport security as his father handed him his boarding pass. He stopped for a moment and looked back up at his father questioningly, "What about my ID? I-I can't remember if I had it with me-"

"You left your wallet at home when you went to work that day," his father explained to him in a quiet voice. "I've got your ID right here." A hand patted over the pocket of his suit jacket.

"Can I-"

His father just handed the wallet over before he could finish the question.

Blaine turned it over in his hands, feeling the soft leather. He flipped it open carefully to see his driver's license sitting right in the same place it had two years ago before he'd ever known Jean-Pierre LaMontone existed. He missed being the kid in that picture.

It had been two long years since he'd had a wallet of his own. The only ones he'd touched had been the ones he'd been forced to steal and hand over immediately.

He slipped the little plastic card from the slot and looked over it for a long moment. The picture made him wonder if they'd even let him through security at all. He didn't feel like he looked like the boy in this picture at all anymore.

"Blaine," his father's voice made his head jerk up and he felt heat rise in his face when he realized it was now his turn to go through.

"Sorry," he murmured, handing over his boarding pass and ID to the TSA agent. The man glanced over it for a moment, his eyes stalling for a second at the picture before looking back up at him.

"Here you are Sir," the items were handed back to him. He took them into his hands carefully before shedding his jacket and folding it carefully into the little grey bin along with the rest of his meager amount of carry on belongings.

"Thank you," he mumbled, before standing in front of the imaging machine. Almost immediately there was a bunching feeling in his stomach. He'd heard about these when he was a teenager and he hadn't thought it was that big of a deal at the time, but now the very idea of it made his stomach clench.

His nails dug into his fists as he stepped through the machine and raised his hands up at the called instructions. Doing what he was told was something that came to him a little too naturally now.

"Sir I need you to unclench your fists." He unclenched them purposely, his body starting to quiver slightly at the amount of tension that had started surging through his system. "Alright Sir, come on through."

He was starting to wish he hadn't been the first of his family to go through, even if it was only about another ten or fifteen seconds before his father joined him. He grabbed up his stuff quietly and pulled the strap of the satchel his mother had bought him over his shoulder, making sure his wallet and ID were safely tucked away inside it.

He wanted to feel good about what was happening, but somehow he couldn't make himself truly believe it.

"Hey," his sister was at his side and very lightly nudged his shoulder.

For some reason he found himself start a little at the contact and he smiled at his little sister weakly, "Hey Bri."

"I bet it's all a little overwhelming huh?" She asked, looping her arm through his as they waited for their brother and mother to be sent through security.

"A little," he whispered back to her before taking in a soft breath. "I just-" he stopped. He wasn't sure how much he could admit. He found himself being honest with Kurt and to a slightly lesser degree his parents, but he wasn't sure if he could burden his little sister with the fact that he still felt like Pierre might pop out from behind a corner at any moment. "I don't know."

His sister frowned at him for a long moment, keeping her arm looped through his, before she just shook her head. "You know. You just don't want to tell me." Her tone changed a little as her words slowed sadly, "Well- if you ever change your mind you know I'd listen, right Blaine? I mean- I might be the younger sister but- I might still be able to help."

"I just don't want to talk about it," he murmured honestly. If he were to completely honest with himself he didn't even want to think about it, but it was easier said than done.

He didn't want to feel that constant tingling of fear that sent ice through his spine every time he looked around a corner or saw a flash of blond hair and blue eyes on a man. He wanted to believe it was over- that no one would ever be able to hurt him like that again.

"It's over Blaine-"

He shook his head at her suddenly, "No Bri. It's not."

A long sigh escaped her lips, "I guess not. Not for you, but he can't hurt you anymore. You don't have to keep looking to see-"

Everyone kept saying that. Everyone kept saying that Pierre couldn't hurt him anymore but they didn't know. They couldn't know how wrong they were. He fought to keep his words at a low level of volume as he spoke to his sister, trying to keep the quaking quality out of his voice. "He can and he does every second and every day. Bri every time I have to remember –and trust me it's kind of impossible to forget- he hurts me, okay? I just- don't want to talk about it so please don't make me. I know you're trying to help but-" he pressed his palms against his eyes. He would not cry in public.

He would not embarrass his family like this.

Blaine sucked back his tears, "Let's just go home, okay?"

"Okay," she murmured back at him, looking a little stunned at his quiet outburst. "I'm sorry Blaine. I didn't mean to upset you-"

"It's okay," he stopped her quietly as the rest of their family joined them.

She just shook her head, echoing her mother's words from the other day, "No, it's not." She tucked her arm into his again, "but maybe one day it will be?"

"Maybe," he mumbled, although he wasn't sure it was possible. Somehow even though he was going home and Kurt would be with him again in a few days, it felt like nothing would ever be okay. He would never be the same person he'd been before and that was all he wanted.

He clenched and unclenched his fists tightly for a moment, letting his sister lead him a little as they followed with their family towards the gate. Maybe once he got back to Lima things would be different, easier. Maybe he'd actually start to believe that it was over.

Boarding the plane turned out to be the easy part. His parents had paid extra to be boarded early into their first class seats and he'd ended up with a window seat next to his mother, protected and away from people accidentally bumping into the seats as they made their way to their seats.

The issue was the noise. So many people seemed to be talking even though it was a morning flight and he tried to focus his attention by staring out the window, but even so he could feel his body tighten with tension. There was too much audio stimuli and it was sending his nerves on edge.

"Sweetheart," he felt a gentle hand on his arm, "are you feeling okay?"

He faked a smile, "Just hard to focus. It's a little loud."

Almost immediately his mother started digging around in her purse and he watched curiously before she pulled out a small package. "It was going to be a surprise, but maybe it'll be helpful. I got Brianna to put some songs on it for you and I think she programmed Kurt's number into it for you as well."

He didn't take it; instead he mother put the small package into his hand.

"Go ahead, baby. Open it. It's already set up and everything," his mother encouraged him softly.

He tore the slightly crumpled wrapping paper to find an iPhone lying in his hand. There was no packaging, proving that his mother hadn't been lying about having the phone set up for him. "Mom- I- thanks?"

"Why don't you make sure it works and send Kurt a quick text before you have to put it on airplane mode?" She suggested in a soft voice as she handed him a pair of white ear buds in a little plastic zip baggie. "Then once we get in the air you can see what kind of music your sister put on there for you."

"Thank you Mom," he murmured shakily, tightening his hand slightly around the phone. He looked down at it for a moment, before finding Kurt easily in his contacts. It wasn't hard considering the only numbers in there were Kurt's and those of his family members. There was even a little heart next to the other boy's name.

_It's Blaine. Mom bought me a phone. Plane's gonna take off soon tho. Talk to you soon? - Blaine_

The reply was almost immediate.

_Of course. Text me when you land. Love you. Xx - Kurt _

_Ok, love you too. - Blaine_

He looked up at his mother and rubbed his eyes a little as he thanked her hoarsely, "Thanks Mom. This- it's going to make this week so much more bearable. Just- thank you."

"You're welcome baby," she smiled at him tenderly as the sign for the seatbelt light went on. "You'd better put it on airplane mode now though."

He carefully went through the settings and fixed it, but didn't reach for his seatbelt automatically like his mother did. Instead he ignored it- pretended it didn't exist.

"Sweetie," his mother started gently, "it wasn't a big deal in the rental because we know how hard it is for you, but they're pretty strict about their rules here. You have to put your seatbelt on."

He closed his eyes for a long moment, nodding his head. He knew deep down that he wouldn't get away with it, but he couldn't help but try. Shakily he let his hands reach for the seatbelt and buckled it loosely around his hips.

Almost immediately he wanted to take it off. "Mom- could you maybe ask the stewardess- maybe they'd make an exception. I can't-"

It was like the seatbelt had been fastened way too tightly over his chest, constricting his airway, even if really it was just the panic setting in.

"Baby they aren't-"

"Can't you just try?" He asked, feeling his voice rise in pitch as a pinch of desperation set in. "Mama, please. It feels like- it feels like- I don't want to be- Mama-"

Her hand gripped his as she whispered to him fervently, "Blaine, look at me. As soon as the seatbelt light goes off you can take it off, okay? You just hold my hand for now, okay? It's going to be alright. No one's going to hurt you. We're going home. We're going home where no one's ever going to tie you up again, okay? I'm right here."

He squeezed her hand tightly, his body still incredibly tense. "Okay, okay." His jaw trembled for a long moment. "I still don't like it, but- okay." Leaning his head against her shoulder he tried to drown out everything else; the sound of the engines roaring to life, the noise of the other passengers and even his own heart pounding in his chest at the feeling of the belt at his hips. Instead he tried to focus on the most important thing that was happening.

He was finally going home.

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><p><strong>AN**: Well I hoped you enjoyed this chapter. I wrote it while super duper tired (all the days I worked on it actually) so hopefully it's good. I'm still pretty tired so I can't tell if it is or not, haha. Anyways please drop me a review. I really appreciate them!


	31. Chapter 31: BandAid on a Bullet Wound

**Warning**: Non-explicit mentions of non-con. Some violence as well. Also mentions of suicidal thoughts (past mentions).

**A/N**: So basically today at work I went on the internet and wrote this chapter using SkyDrive. Thank you msn for allowing me to get paid to write fanfiction. Also usually I'm a very hard working but we've pretty much finished everything I'm supposed to do (plus I got a ridiculous paper cut doing it) and my supervisor took the day off. Don't judge me! :P

Anyway here's a new chapter for you and it's even on time? What are the odds? Yeah thank SkyDrive for that, lol.

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><p>Chapter 31: Band-Aid on a Bullet Wound<p>

The moment they landed Blaine had his new phone on again and shot off a quick text to Kurt, letting him know they'd landed safely just like the other boy had asked. In all honesty he'd rather have the other boy next to him instead of a few, albeit sweet, words typed back at him. His mother was pulling her things from the overhead bin, but he simply reached under the seat in front of him to draw out his satchel and letting the strap fall over his shoulder. They were home. They were in Lima. _He_ was in Lima for the first time in over two years.

"Baby," his mother's voice broke into his thoughts quietly, "let's go home. We're almost there."

He faked a smile that didn't fool anyone and followed his mother off the plane, thankful that he exited the jet sandwiched between family members rather than random other passengers. The moment they had more room he moved up close to his mom again, unwilling to lose sight of her for a moment. She simply slid an arm around his shoulders comfortingly as they headed towards the baggage claim area.

"Ness!" Joey's voice broke out loudly and he watched as an affectionate smile grew over his brother's face as the man rushed towards a pale, brown-haired woman standing near the baggage claim. He watched as his brother took the woman into his arms and kissed her full on the lips, before telling her loudly, "I missed you."

His sister-in-law grinned at her husband softly, "I missed you too Doofus." The grin softened into a gentle smile as her eyes flickered to him, "Now I think there's an introduction to be made." The woman stepped away from Joey and extended a hand, still smiling gently, "Hi, you must be Blaine. I'm Vanessa. I don't know if Joey told you about me, but I've heard a lot of good things about you."

Shakily he shook the hand. "Hi," he mumbled in a quiet voice, his eyes still darting around the airport a little. "It's nice to meet you."

"Would a hug be too much?" She asked as she let go of his hand, "You can be honest. I won't be offended if it is."

"No- I- it would be okay I think," he uttered thickly, letting the slightly older woman draw him briefly into her arms.

"I'm glad I finally get to meet you Blaine. Losing you was so hard on your family- I'm glad they get to have you back- and now- now my little boy gets to have his namesake as a part of his life," Vanessa's voice was thick too, apparently overwrought with emotion. "I- I'm sorry," she drew back and gave a weak laugh, "Joey told me so much about you that I always felt like I missed out- Sorry I'm not being very articulate today. I'm just happy to meet you, and a little flustered."

He blinked, not sure where to go with that. Instead he decided to just thank her quietly, "Thank you. I- I'm happy to meet you too."

"I'm going to bring B.B. by the house in a couple of days," she told him with a bright, slightly pasted on looking smile. "I thought you might want to get settled in first. He's a very demanding baby; happy, but demanding. We just have to hope he doesn't have one of his infamous 'happiness collapses'."

He wasn't quite sure what a 'happiness collapse' was, but he let it slide. It wasn't what was really bothering him. His eyebrows furrowed and he looked between Joey and Vanessa for a moment, "You don't live with Mom and Dad anymore?" He'd been hoping otherwise, admitting silently to himself that he felt safer with his brother around. Knowing he had a police officer at his back and by his side had kept fear at least somewhat at bay.

"I'm a married man now;" Joey reminded him, smiling weakly, "A family man."

Vanessa rolled her eyes at her husband and gave Blaine a little shake of her head. "He says that, but really we were going to move in once our lease was up. Your parents were going to help us out by letting us live there while we saved up for a house of our own-"

"You're not anymore?" He asked, his eyes flickering to the baggage carousel as it started moving around and bringing out the luggage from their flight.

"Well we might just renew the lease now. The house might be too full and noisy now that you've come back to us," Joey had wrapped an arm around his wife's waist as Blaine noticed his mother had stepped away to collect up her suitcase. "B.B. really is quite demanding and he's not sleeping through the night too consistently yet, so we thought it might be easier for us, and for you, if we stay in the apartment another year."

He knew what they really meant. It seemed obvious to him. Letting him meet B.B. was one thing, but to be around him all the time? That had to be out of the question. After all they knew exactly the kinds of things he'd been forced to do. Joey knew about his infection. Honestly he was a little shocked they were going to let him see the baby at all. He was diseased, disgusting, and damaged.

Blaine definitely didn't blame the couple for not wanting him living with their child.

"Oh," he mumbled quietly, catching sight of his own suitcase moving by, but Joey reached over to grab it before he could. "I can-"

"Forget it Blainers," his brother shook his head with a soft smile. "You'll pull out your stitches or something. I got it."

He lowered his eyes. He really couldn't do anything. Instead he just asked in a small voice, "Are you coming back to the house with us tonight?"

"You bet your bottom dollar Buddy," Joey joked at him softly, before adding, "For a while anyway. We'll get you settled in and maybe have some dinner, but I need to run into the station sometime this evening." There was a pause, "Did you want me to stay at the house tonight?"

The lot of them were heading towards the parking lot and Blaine found himself protectively in the middle of their family group again. It seemed like everyone was instinctively trying to block out the rest of the world. For that he was thankful. He wasn't sure he could handle it yet. "I- What about B.B.?"

"He's with a co-worker and friend of mine," Vanessa spoke up softly. "I told her we might be gone for the night so it's fine."

"No," he shook his head after a moment, looking at his brother, "you need to see your baby. You haven't seen him in over a week- that's not fair to you- or B.B."

"B.B. will be fine-"

"I'll be fine too," he lied with a whisper, following as Vanessa clicked her vehicle's remote and he saw a van's light flash. "I've got Mom and Dad and Brianna. I'll be fine I promise." Joey seemed unsure despite his assurances and Blaine tried to force a smile on his face. "I'm home now. I'll be okay-"

His brother let out a sigh, his face creasing sadly, "You can say that as much as you want Blainers, but I know you're not okay, not now."

Blaine's gaze dropped, but he didn't say anything. Instead he just climbed into the middle row of the van and took a seat by the window. Joey climbed right in after him and sat next to him. "Don't you want to sit up front?"

"I want to sit with my little brother. I'll let Dad have shotgun," Joey shrugged his shoulders and tried on a small, mischievous smile. "Besides this way Dad has to load the van with all our crap and I don't."

A tiny laugh dropped from his throat, but he knew the false sound didn't fool his brother in the slightest, or anyone else that was getting into the vehicle for that matter.

"I have no problem staying tonight if you want me to," Joey returned to the subject at hand. "If it'll make things easier on you- or make you feel safer than it's not a problem at all. Just be honest with me Blaine. I want to do whatever's going to be easier on you, okay?"

He let the words mull over in his mind for a long moment. Knowing his brother was around- the same brother that carried a gun and worked for the police- would make him feel safer. On the other hand he thought about B.B. There was a baby waiting on his brother, who hadn't seen his father in over a week. He bit down on his lip, "You should go home tonight and spend some time with your family-"

"You're my family too Blaine," Joey insisted softly.

"I know," he nodded his head and forced a weak smile. "I know and I really a-appreciate the offer, but I want you to spend time with B.B. tonight."

A frown and a sigh left his older brother, "Alright Blainers, if that's what you want."

He nodded his head, before leaning it against the window as the vehicle started to move. In less than an hour he was going to be home, in the place he'd grown up in. He wondered for a moment if his bed would feel the same as it had before. Even if it didn't it had to be better than the lumpy mattress he'd been forced to sleep on the last two years. Pierre's bed had been terribly comfortable, but despite how many times he'd been in it, he'd never slept there.

It was probably better that he hadn't.

"Blaine," Vanessa's voice came from the driver's seat and he looked up automatically as she smiled at him through the rearview mirror, "I have a rule in my car about sea-"

"Make an exception," Joey cut his wife off softly. "Just for now Ness."

She looked abashed for a moment, before murmuring at him with a weak smile, "Never mind Blaine. It's fine."

"Okay," he mumbled, leaning his head back against the glass. He wasn't sure how, but somehow even though he'd been sitting the most of the day he was exhausted. His eyes started to flutter a little as the familiar sights of Lima started passing by them. It was familiar and he remembered all the places that flew past, but it still somehow seemed so foreign. The strangest part of it seemed to be when they passed a public park and he saw a bunch of little kids screaming happily and running around as their parents watched. He wasn't quite sure why, but it probably had something to do with the fact the only people he'd been around were people rushing around on foot in New York. He couldn't even remember passing by a park during the years he spent there.

The only kids he'd seen then were being ushered around by their parents while he was staking out who to pickpocket or being ushered around himself, only by Pierre's firm hand on his wrist.

More houses passed by until he recognized the street they'd just turned onto. He sat up a little straighter, still exhausted but anxious all the same as the house he'd known as a child loomed ahead of them. The van pulled into the driveway and he swallowed the thick lump in his throat.

The engine shut off and everyone seemed to be exiting the vehicle, but he just sat there, stock still and staring out the window.

"Blaine Bud," his father was looking in through the side door. "Come on, we're home."

"I'm going to wake up now, aren't I?" He whispered, reaching to pinch his arm a little. "I'm going to wake up and none of it's going to be real. I'll be right back where I started- This can't be happening. This- it can't be real. It's too good-"

"Blaine come on out of the van," his father's voice coached quietly. "Let yourself believe it, son. It's real. It's hard for us to believe too, but you're home now and that's what matters, okay? You don't have to go back there. You can come home instead."

He looked over at his father blankly for a long moment, his eyes glittering and achy with tears. He scooted over to the door and carefully set one foot on the driveway before climbing out of the van completely. He could feel the cool breeze as it blew passed him and ruffled his hair a little. His eyes wandered upward, catching on the blue sky with cotton candy clouds floating by. "It's really real, isn't it? I'm home?" He uttered the words in disbelief.

"You're home," his father's voice sounded just as in awe as his did and he let his dad bring him close in a brief hug. "You head inside with the girls while your brother and I get the luggage, okay?"

He didn't bother offering to help, knowing that he'd just get sent away with a comment about his stitches. It made a funny feeling rise in his chest. They actually cared about his wellbeing and he didn't have to question it. Pierre would have just growled with him to get on with it before smacking him if he took too long. Instead he let Brianna loop her arm through his again and walk with him towards the front door their mother was in the process of unlocking.

His little sister immediately stepped through the doorway, but he hesitated like he had when getting out of the van. Then with a tentative step he let himself walk into the house, his head craning around only to find that everything looked much the same. There were new drapes on the window and a large framed photo of Joey, Vanessa, Brianna and Kurt on the wall. Joey and Kurt were both in tuxedos and Vanessa was in a white gown, next to Brianna in a kelly green bridesmaid's dress.

There were also numerous photos of a chubby, smiling baby with a light smattering of dark curls and honey eyes.

The only other difference he noticed in their main living room was a photo of him on the mantel. It was his school picture, superimposed on a pamphlet and framed. It read, "In Loving Memory of Blaine Anderson. September 3rd 1994 - August 17th 2011".

His mother caught his gaze and smiled weakly, before picking up the frame. "I suppose we don't really need this anymore, huh?" She tucked it away in a drawer in one of the little coffee tables. "We got the real deal now." Her smile turned a little more genuine, "We'll get a new picture, nice and updated, once we get your hair cut of course. We can do that tomorrow if you want?"

"Yeah, okay," he mumbled weakly, before looking longingly towards the stairs. "I- I know we were supposed to have a family dinner- but- but-"

"You can go on up to bed if that's what you want, Sweetie," his mother's voice was gentle. "Your bedroom is still there. We just moved your stuff into some boxes. I'll get your father to bring them down from the attic tomorrow so you can sort through it. We'll just have dinner tomorrow night. I bet your exhausted, right baby?"

He nodded his head, letting his fingers linger on the railing, but not starting up the stairs.

"Do I at least get a hug goodnight?" She asked in a soft voice, stepped towards him and extending her arms out slightly. He slid into the embrace, holding on tightly for a long moment before pulling back and smiling weakly. "Goodnight baby."

"Night Mama," he mumbled quietly, before reaching out and pulling his sister into a hug as well. Brianna seemed shocked for a moment that he initiated it, but easily hugged him back. "Night Bri."

"Night Blaine-o," she murmured back at him.

He looked to Vanessa briefly, feeling uncertain about what to say. In the end, after an awkward pause he just said in a quiet voice, "Um, goodnight Vanessa."

"Goodnight Blaine. I'll see you tomorrow," she smiled at him gently and gave a little wave.

He nodded his head, lifting his foot to start up the stairs. He stalled for another moment, wondering if he should wait to say goodnight to his brother and father. Both men were still out front and he could see them talking through the window.

"Go to bed Baby," his mother told him, her voice gently firm. "They'll understand."

"Kay," he mumbled, finally letting himself climb the stairs and meander the familiar hallway that led to his bedroom. He pushed the door open and let his tongue swipe over his bottom lip, feeling the stitches there.

His mother hadn't lied. His room was still there but it was practically empty. His guitar was gone and so were most of his awards and nearly all of his personal possessions. All that seemed to be there was his bed, dresser and desk. It was almost as empty as the room he'd been forced to live in when he was Pierre's captive.

At least there were no bars on the window. They were simply glass with a screen protecting one of the panes from insects and other bugs. There was no bolt on the door either. No one would be locking him up. He could come and go as he pleased. Even that thought was a little overwhelming. There was some semblance of control over his life again when he was so used to have none of it over anything at all.

Trying not to think about it too closely he pulled back the covers and slipped into the bed. It was definitely not the lumpy mattress he was used to. In comparison it was luxurious and he let his head sink into the fluffy pillow, suddenly glad he'd only worn a pair of light sweats and a t-shirt to travel in. Now he could go straight to sleep and it came to him almost immediately. Only it wasn't quite as peaceful as he had hoped.

_"I bet you thought you got away with it." He was still in his bedroom, but somehow it seemed to morph around him. Suddenly he wasn't in his bed at all. He was in Pierre's and his entire body was in a state of paralysis despite there was nothing holding him there except the man's gaze. "I bet you thought you were home free, but I'm not through with you yet."_

_A whimper escaped his mouth, but that was all. _

_"I'll never be through with you," the man whispered in a low tone. "You're mine forever Blaine; forever."_

_Hands reached for his pants and he tried to writhe away, only managing to toss his head from side to side. The rest of his body still seemed to be paralyzed. "Please," words finally escaped from his mouth. "No, please. I'm sorry."_

_A hand snapped against the side of his face, but it didn't stop him. _

_"No. Stop!" The murmured pleas turned quickly into screams. "Stop! No! Stop!"_

"Baby wake up," a gentle voice cut into the nightmare as his body started to jerk back and forth on the bed, shaking from the shoulder.

_"I'm not finished with you Blaine," Pierre's voice was whispering darkly. _

"Blaine, I need you to wake up baby," the voice was louder and a little more hoarse this time and his eyes snapped open to see his mother staring down at him anxiously in a set of familiar flannel pajamas. "Blaine? Sweetheart?"

He couldn't answer, his breathing too weak and shallow. It was all he could do to reach out his arms like a small child. His mother immediately cuddled him into her arms, rocking him back and forth slightly while he pressed his face against her shoulder. "It was a nightmare baby. It wasn't real. It wasn't real."

Except at one point it had been.

Nonetheless he let her soothe him the way she had when he was small, until he felt himself dozing against her shoulder. "I'm okay now Mama," he mumbled tiredly, laying back again and sniffling. His mind seemed to slip away from him before she could even let out another soothing word and back into a pitch black world.

_"What did I tell you?" Pierre was there again, except this time he was pacing in front of him. He tested his mobility, only to find he was quite firmly tied down to a familiar wooden chair. _

_He struggled against the invisible ropes in a nervous, trembling terror when he realized he wasn't in the kitchen. He was bound down to a chair beside Pierre's bed and it wasn't empty. Kurt was lying on it, bound hand and foot in nothing but his underwear and with a trickle of blood leaking from his forehead. "What did you do?"_

_"Don't you remember?" Pierre asked with a low growl. "Don't you remember my promise if you screwed up? Didn't you hear him screaming for you Blainey? Didn't you hear him beg?"_

_"What'd you do?" Tears were seeping helplessly from his eyes. _

_"Stop crying!" The man yelled at him loudly, his voice seeming to echo along the walls. The man took a step closer to him, "Do you want to know what I did to your little boyfriend Blainey? He was almost as good as you, just a little too sassy for my tastes." Pierre stepped back and nudged at the still form, "Of course he can't sass me anymore, can he?" There was no movement from Kurt at all, not even a gentle rise and fall of breath._

_"Kurt," sobs were bubbling from his lips. "No. No."_

_"I'm not even done yet," the man disappeared from his sight, before pulling another familiar figure into his line of vision. Only this time the figure was alive, screaming through the tape covering her lips and struggling. "Thought you might want to see this. I told you what would happen-"_

_"No, no, no-"_

"Blaine!" He jerked away again, only to find his mother still there sitting at the side of his bed. "Sweetheart you're crying in your sleep."

He tried to suck back a noisy sob and let her collect him in her arms again as it burst from him anyway. "I can't make them stop. He killed Kurt and- and he was gonna hurt Bri-"

"It was a dream," his mother reassured quietly into his ear. "A horrible dream, but it was still just a dream sweetheart. Kurt's alive and well in New York getting ready to come back to you. He called for you while you were sleeping and everything. You can call him back in the morning and as for Bri, Bri's downstairs watching TV, I promise."

"I'm so tired," the words were desperate. His body was heavy with exhaustion but he was terrified to go back to sleep. It seemed like every time he closed his eyes Pierre would return to terrorize him. "Mom, I want to go to sleep, but- but I can't-" He sucked in several quick, shallow breaths, his entire body trembling like it had in his dreams.

"Baby you're panicking," his mother told him quietly, keeping her arms firm around him. "Calm down baby. I'm here and no one's going to hurt you anymore, okay?"

His breathing still shuddered no matter how hard he tried to breath normally. "Mom- Mom, do-do we h-have any N-Nyquil?" He stuttered out quietly.

She frowned at him for a long moment and pulled back a little to feel his forehead. He flinched a little but let her, "You're not getting a cold, are you?"

He just shook his head. He didn't have a cold and he didn't think one was coming either. It was just the only fix he could think of. In the early days mostly when Pierre got sick of 'his sniveling', as the man had called it, he'd been force fed a double dose of the nighttime medication. It was the only thing he knew would guarantee him a dreamless sleep. "N-no, but Mom it helps- it helps." He gulped down air, swallowing convulsively.

"I don't think that's a good idea sweetheart. It seems a little like putting a band aid on a bullet wound. It's not going to fix anything-" she started in a careful voice, trying not to upset him.

"J-just f-for tonight?" His voice lowered pleadingly, little sobs still shaking from his throat. "Pl-please? I-I can't- the nightmares-"

Her face visibly softened as she looked at him. "We'll make a doctor's appointment for tomorrow and get you set up for some kind of counseling," she told him in a soft voice. "We'll figure out a way to help you sleep better that doesn't involve self-medicating, okay Blaine?"

"Mama," his entire body was quaking in desperation. He couldn't go to sleep if he thought he might have another nightmare like the last two. They would only get worse and he didn't want to remember anymore. "Don't let him hurt me anymore, please. I don't- please Mom. I n-need it. Don't let him- He'll come back-"

A long sigh escaped his mother as she kept rocking him gently to and fro, "Just for tonight baby and I mean that. Just tonight. We'll figure something else out tomorrow, okay?"

"'Kay," he whimpered the word out softly, laying back as his mother released him from her arms and stood up.

"I'll be right back," she spoke sadly, before disappearing out the door.

Already it felt like his eyes wanted to slip shut again, but he forced them to stay open. He needed to stay awake long enough that he was ensured a dreamless (Pierre-less) sleep. A minute later his mom was back with a little dosage cup in her hands. "Mom," he frowned a little, still breathing a little too fast, "th-that's not- it's not enough-"

"It's a full dose," she frowned at him again. She paused for a long moment before adding in a gently firm tone, "I already don't like this Blaine. This is more than enough, okay?"

It was better than nothing. So he sat up and downed the contents of the little cup, before sinking back down into the bed. Maybe now he could sleep properly, dreamlessly. His mind got pleasantly cloudy as his mother reached to gently pull the covers back over him like she used to when he was still little; still whole and unbroken. "Thank you Mama."

A hand brushed gently over his hair, "Goodnight my baby."

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><p><strong>AN**: There's going to be more stuff with Kurt in the next chapter, although as long as the scene doesn't end up too long it shouldn't be just focused on Kurt. I have some things I need to happen for Blainers too! On another note I feel obligated to say that you shouldn't drink nighttime cough syrup as a way to combat a panic attack and/or nightmares. It really is like (as Mama Anderson stated) putting a band aid on a bullet wound; fixes nothing. Unless you have a cold, then have at it :P.

Also I wanted to ask what kind of image I should use for the picture thing the site has added. I can't draw worth crap so I'm wondering what I should do, if anything. If you have any ideas let me know, thanks!

Anyway please leave me a review!


	32. Chapter 32: Stranger Staring Back

**Warning**: Non-explicit mentions of non-con. Some violence as well. Also mentions of suicidal thoughts (past mentions).

**A/N**: Phew! I'm finally done my Spring work term. There's nothing wrong with full time work, except when it starts so early in the morning that you're getting up at 4am. Just goes to show I'm not cut out for the mining industry, haha. Well I'm going to have a few quick notices on the end of this chapter, but without further ado...

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><p>Chapter 32 - Stranger Staring Back<p>

Joey stepped into the police station only to have one of his co-workers, his partner Matt Blackler as it was, give him a hearty thump on the back, "Glad to have you back Joe. Even more glad to hear why. It's not every day the dead come back to us."

"Thanks Matt," Joey faked a smile at the other PD officer.

"How's he doing?" Matt asked him, sounding legitimately concerned.

"There's been some issues adjusting I think," he answered honestly with a bit of a sigh. "Mostly I think he's in disbelief and exhausted. He's had a lot to take in."

His friend nodded understandingly, before looking a little disconcerted; "Um, Joey, about the Marc LaMontone thing. The Lieu doesn't want us bringing him in. There's no evidence as of yet connecting him to the kidnapping other than him being related to the perpetrator. It's just not enough-"

"Then we need to find some-"

"We can't," his partner stopped him. "Joey, your brother was kidnapped and transported across state lines. The feds have taken over the case and they don't want to spook the bastard in case he decides to destroy any evidence before they find it."

"Blaine's face is all over the news. I think he's already spooked," Joey growled, despite knowing that it had nothing to do with Matt at all. There wasn't anything either of them could do about it thanks to the technicalities of police work. "We need to get to the evidence _before_ he destroys it."

"Yeah well the feds need warrants just like we do or else he'll get off on harassment or some kind of technicality." Matt let out a sigh and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "They're willing to keep us in the loop Joe, but otherwise we don't have any say on what happens in this investigation; you especially. All we can do is suggest-" his partner paused for a moment as they both found their desks. "Have you thought about bringing him in and seeing if the feds will put together a line up? If Blaine can pick him out that'd be cause enough to search his place."

Joey just shook his head. "Blaine's statement said he never saw anyone inside the apartment except for Jean-Pierre LaMontone. If he had someone over he would tie my little brother to the bed, gag him and lock him in his bedroom. He heard muffled voices on occasion, but that's it." He let out another dissatisfied growl, "I understand the technicality of it, but seriously someone was keeping tabs on our family. How else would that bastard have known what to twist around to use against my brother? And who else could it have been but _his_ brother?"

"I tried that angle already on your behalf. Being related isn't enough they said," his partner sighed again. "All I can suggest is if you catch him anywhere near your parents' house or your apartment or Blaine, get a restraining order. Then if he breaks it, they have him and every reason to search his place. It's all you can do, really. It's all they'll let you do."

"I really don't like it-"

"None of us do," Matt reminded him quietly, taking in another long breath. "Trust me Joe. You're a part of our team and it's pissing us all off that we have to leave it to some strangers from the Cleveland FBI field office. It might be for the best though, since some of us are so emotionally invested in the outcome."

"I still don't like it-" he sighed, running a hand tiredly over his face. "Call me if you learn anything?"

"Of course. Go home. No one expects you to be here anyway," Matt gave him a shove on the shoulder. "Go spend some time with your brother. My best bet is he needs his family around right now."

Joey smiled weakly, "He went to bed early, but I could use some rest too." A hand rubbed tiredly over his face, "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"If you come back here tomorrow I'll just drag you back home Joe," his partner shook his head at him. "Lieu said to take as much time as you need, so you might as well take advantage of that."

Home sounded like a good place to be; especially with Marc LaMontone allowed to wander Lima a free man. Whatever Blaine might have said earlier he was staying the night at his parents' house. Somehow it didn't feel safe leaving them there on their own.

Suddenly moving back in the house seemed to be the better option after all. One thing was for sure, once he was less exhausted he was going to have to talk to his wife. Somehow, together, they'd find out what they needed to do.

* * *

><p>Blaine let out a small groan and rolled over in bed, his eyes still feeling heavy with sleep, to look at the digital clock on his bedside table. The red numbers flashed <strong>9:12AM<strong> at him and he carefully flipped back the covers. He'd slept in. He slid his legs over the side of the bed and carefully rose up, padding out of his room and down the stairs. If he moved quickly he could make it down there in time to make breakfast before anyone noticed that he hadn't. It was Saturday; he might get away with it.

Except, as he softly made his way to the kitchen the smell of eggs and bacon started to fill his nose. He felt his stomach churn automatically. He hadn't made it in time.

Poking his head into the kitchen he found his mother frying up a pan of bacon. When her eyes found his she smiled softly, "Hi baby. Why don't you go sit down? Breakfast is almost ready and the rest of them should be down soon."

He blinked at her blankly, instead going for some of the dirty dishes she'd left on the counter.

"You don't have to do that Blaine," his mother's voice interrupted, her smile faltering just slightly. "This is our celebratory breakfast. We're celebrating _you_ baby. You don't need to do anything."

"But-" he started, his voice still a little hoarse with sleep and overuse due to the nightmares that had filled his sleep.

"But nothing," she stopped him, her voice still soft. "Sweetheart the rules in this house are the same as before. All we expect you to do is clean up after yourself and help out on occasion. Honestly I don't think I even want you doing that much yet," her eyes flickered to the arm that had bandages over the two stitched slash marks and bore the same wrist that had chaffed so badly when he'd been handcuffed. "Once you've healed up a bit then maybe we can talk about you taking a turn making dinner every once and a while; if you want to, not because you have to. Okay?"

"Okay," he mumbled instead of arguing with her logic. His arm did tend to throb on occasion, although it was more to do with the bruises lining it in conjunction with the gashes rather than the cuts on their own.

"Crap," his head shot up at the female voice, "Bee I was going to do that for you."

"Early bird gets to make breakfast Ness," his mother commented with a smile. "You're not the only one who missed out." His mother gestured at him a little. "Sit down Ness, make yourself at home- where's your husband?"

"You know Joey," Vanessa just shook her head, a fond smile on her face. "It's hell trying to get him up in the morning. Usually I just drop B.B. on him. Not even Joey can get mad at that cute little face."

Blaine continued looking at the table as the two women playfully joked about his brother, not joining in until Vanessa dropped down in the seat next to him, "Good morning Blaine."

His head shot up slightly and he looked at her, his eyes widening just slightly in surprise, "G-good morning." He paused for a moment before adding in a small voice, "I-I thought you and Joey we're going back to your place last night, Vanessa?"

"We were, but when Joey came back from the station last night he was adamant that we stay. He didn't explain why." She shrugged her shoulders a little bit. "And you know everyone just calls me Ness," she told him brightly, a smile playing on her lips. "Apparently I'm a magical water creature or something. I blame your brother. He's the one who christened me and now it's stuck. First day I met him during frosh week at university he decided it was funny and that's all anyone's ever called me since."

"He does have a thing- about nicknames," he managed to say, a weak smile finding his face. "I was B.B. until I was three years old. I get a lot of 'Blainers' and 'Buddy's now."

Ness seemed to smile at him fondly. "We're still trying to figure out what to call B.B. once he gets a little older. It sounds a little too much like baby to send him to school with a name like that. Hopefully it doesn't get too confusing with two Blaine's around." There was a bit of a pause as his dad rubbed sleep out of his eyes as he walked into the dining room attached to the kitchen and sank into a chair at the end of the table. "Not too many morning people in the Anderson clan, is there?"

His father just let out a low growl, sounding just a tad grumpy, "Too early for joking."

"Like father like son," she joked, playfully winking at Blaine, "at least with your brother. He's always grumpy in the mornings too. B.B. is too, actually. Good thing at least one of the Anderson boys knows how to handle mornings."

He coughed out a fake laugh, "Yeah."

"I'm trying too hard, huh?" She commented after a moment, her smile softening into one that seemed more genuine than the last. Suddenly both his parents were staring at the two of them as Ness spoke. "I really want us to get along Blaine. I want us to be friends, for you to like me." His sister-in-law flushed a little, "You mean so much to your brother and he means so much to me. I want to get to know the person he always talked up so much now that I have a chance to."

He blinked owlishly for a long moment. She wanted _him_ to like _her. _That wasn't something he could completely comprehend in his mind. "Really?"

"Of course," her voice was earnest. "I want us to be family Blaine. You're my son's namesake, after all."

His lips managed to twitch upwards at that. It wasn't a real smile, but it was the closest he'd gotten in a while.

"I'm up," Joey padded through the kitchen next, stopping to press a kiss on his mother's cheek. "Where's my breakfast, woman?" The words were still aimed at their mother.

"Just for that you don't get any," his mother's voice sounded playful but Blaine found himself immediately looking down as his body stiffened tightly. He could distinctly remember being punished for minor infractions with a missed meal, or some larger ones with no food for a couple days. He'd kind of hoped that kind of thing was over.

"Yeah, okay Mom, sure," his brother just rolled his eyes at the comment and sank down into the chair next to his wife. "Morning Beautiful. Morning everyone else. Bri sleep in again?"

"Like someone else we know," Ness nudged her husband in his side.

He could hardly believe his brother had taken their mother's comment so lightly, but then again maybe he was taking it too seriously. Even so he kept staring at the table as his family talked and his mother started placing a huge pile of scrambled eggs on the table. Almost immediately the words stopped and every one was collect some onto their plates. He waited, instead looking at Joey oddly when he started putting some on his plate too.

"Don't you want some Blaine?" His brother asked, noticing his gaze.

"I'm just waiting," he mumbled, still frowning at his brother. "Um, and Mom said-"

"She was joking," Joey's voice was soft. "We don't do stuff like that here Blainers." Joey set his plate down and reached for Blaine's, scooping a generous portion of eggs onto the plate for him before setting it back down.

"I'd never do something like that," his mother swallowed thickly, "not for real baby. I'm sorry. I didn't realize-"

"It's okay," he stopped her weakly as she set down the bacon in front of them as well as a large stack of buttered toast. "Just used to people meaning it I guess." It was obvious to everyone at the table that by 'people' he meant Pierre.

His mother shook her head, "What did I tell you in New York?"

He carefully raised his eyes to meet hers. "That it's not okay what he did," he whispered obligatorily, not quite sure yet if he believed it.

"That's right. It wasn't," his mother confirmed in a soft voice as Brianna softly entered the dining area and sat down on his other side. "Have some bacon sweetheart." There was a pause as she addressed Bri momentarily, "Good morning Sleepyhead. You're the last one up as usual."

Brianna just gave out a grumble as she collected up her own food. Then there was a pause of her own as she took a moment to look at Blaine, "Aren't you going to have some bacon?"

"Oh, right." Hesitantly he reached forward and took two slices and put them on his plate.

"You can have more if you want it, and toast Darling," his mother encouraged him gently. "You can have as much or as little as you want, I promise."

He took another couple pieces of bacon and a slice of toast and placed them on his plate, waiting patiently for his mother to sit down before even thinking of putting a bite of food into his mouth. Despite that everyone else around him was digging in and his stomach let out a rumbling growl.

"What are you waiting for?" His mother asked in a soft tone as she sat and put a pill down on the table beside his plate silently; his antibiotic.

"You," he told her in an honest voice. He always ate last; always. For a few months it had only been scraps Pierre had left from his own dinner, making him beg for table scraps like he was a dog or something. Once he'd 'earned' the privilege of being allowed a proper meal it had been forcefully instilled in him that eating before Pierre was definitely not allowed. Pierre wasn't here, but the lesson still seemed to stick.

"That's sweet," his mother smiled at him, "but you don't need to do that Blaine. You dig in as soon as you're ready Sweetheart."

He nodded, taking the pill and slowly starting to make his way through his breakfast, listening as the others spoke and speaking up himself only when someone directly asked him a question. It was nice, eating as a part of a family again, but it was overwhelming too. Everyone was interrupting each other except for him. No one seemed to be willing to interrupt him the few times he ventured to open his mouth to answer a question. There was even the occasional laugh from one of his family members. They were still sitting and talking even as they finished their meals and he slowly continued on his own.

They were still enjoying each other's company when he asked softly, "Can- can I go shower?"

"Of course. You don't need to ask Bud," his father spoke up, a somewhat haunted look surfacing as their eyes met.

"Oh," this was getting hard. He was trying to do everything right but it seemed like no matter what he did that he couldn't. His jaw trembled a little and he stood from the table with a bitten back wince before practically running away from the table. Well it wasn't exactly a run. His body still ached too much for that. If he were to be totally honest sitting down too long was still a bit of an issue. The plane ride, however short, had been uncomfortably painful.

He swallowed the thick lump in his throat, trying not to remember what had caused that pain even though it was impossible to forget. His body still felt like it wasn't his own; like it didn't belong to him and never had.

Carefully he picked out a set of clothes from his small, still packed, suitcase and padded over barefoot to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He didn't lock it out of habit, considering the only time he'd tried locking the bathroom from the inside with Pierre had earned him a few swift backhands. That was one lesson he'd learned fairly quickly. That man enjoyed having access whenever and wherever he wanted. Blaine hadn't had a choice in the matter. His body wasn't his at that time. It barely felt like it was now.

He took a deep breath as he looked in the mirror and slowly shed his shirt, before staring at the person reflected back at him. There wasn't really any fat on his body, but the muscle definition was very slight, almost non-existent. He frowned at his reflection before poking at his stomach a little. Once upon a time it had been solid, muscles fit and defined; now it was just soft and gave way slightly under his finger.

He scowled a little at himself.

"Honey there aren't any towels-" his mother opened the door and stopped talking immediately, a towel over her arm as she stared in surprise for a moment. "Sorry I thought-"

He just started and looked back at her, "Mom?"

"I was just bringing you a towel. I thought since the door wasn't locked..." she trailed off softly, before frowning a little. "Why were you staring in the mirror, baby?"

"Oh, um, no reason," he mumbled, accepting the towel she offered him. "Do-do you want me to lock the door, then? I- um-" He wasn't sure he wanted to explain that he wasn't allowed to before. Somehow he didn't think she'd take it very well, even if a part of her probably already knew.

"Well it'd definitely save anyone walking in on you," she told him in a soft voice. "You can go ahead and lock the door if you need to Sweetheart." There was a short pause before she added, "I'm going to call to make that appointment we talked about while you're in the shower, Sweetie, and maybe this afternoon we can cut your hair?"

Blaine carefully ran a hand through the tangled curls that Pierre had refused to let him cut off. On one side was the fear of disobedience, but on the other he might actually feel a little more like himself again if he went through with it. He was tired of feeling like he was somebody else. "Okay Mom. I'd like that, I think."

She smiled at him tenderly, "Alright then. It's settled." She left and closed the door behind her, leaving him alone in the large bathroom once again.

His eyes found the mirror again, studying the stitched gash that trailed down his somewhat gaunt face. No matter how hard he stared at his reflection, it still seemed like it was a stranger staring back at him.

* * *

><p>"Hey," he couldn't help how awkward his voice sounded when he found the shaggy haired blond waiting for him at their regular bench.<p>

"Holy," the word escaped Brad's voice slowly when he saw him, jumping up from the bench and raising a hand to lightly touch his cheek. "Kurt, are you okay? God it looks like someone tried to beat your face in or something-"

"Thanks Brad." He deadpanned softly, even if the other boy had been right on the mark.

"I didn't mean it like that," Brad insisted immediately. "It's just- my God- you're okay right?"

"Nothing that won't heal," he assured in a weak voice. "I got hit in the face a few times but bruises fade, ribs heal and all that."

The other boy just looked pained at the thought of his injuries. "That doesn't mean I have to like it. -Shit, that looks like it hurts."

"Does a little," he admitted quietly. "I've got a lovely prescription painkiller though. Keeps it all at bay for the most part. I'll have to get more probably when I get back to Lima on Wednesday."

"You know when I said I wanted you to come say goodbye before you leave I meant closer to the actual day, you know?" Bradley joked at him weakly. "I know you're going to be busy Kurt. I'm just glad you decided to take the time to come say goodbye." The other boy sat down again and patted the empty space on the bench next to him.

Kurt sat down, reaching over to squeeze Brad's hand for just a moment. "I'm really sorry for that phone call the other day. I realize I was probably a little too blunt with you and-"

"I needed it," Bradley stopped him with a small smile. "I think I've finally realized that maybe we're not as meant to be as I made myself think. At least- I'm not meant for you, anyways. It's about time I started to move on. Just might take me a little time, that's all."

"You know there's going to be a guy and he's going to fall head over heels for you," Kurt told him honestly. He knew the only reason he hadn't was because his heart had still belonged so completely to Blaine.

If he were to be completely honest he kind of wanted to slip Dave's number into Brad's pocket. Brad was kind of a goof at times, but he knew for a fact since he'd dated both boys (even if his thing with Dave had only lasted a few awkward weeks) that they had plenty in common. He didn't though. It didn't seem like the right time. Brad's eyes were still pained and it felt too soon and like it would be insulting even, if he tried that now. He only hoped he could get Finn and Rachel to set up the two later, even just to be friends. Of course, that all depended if he could get the two to finally forgive Dave. Both still stubbornly held a slight grudge against him.

"I know," Brad's voice breathed out, the '_I just wish it was you'_ was unspoken but still echoed loudly in both their minds.

"We're always going to be friends though, right?" He felt the pitch in his voice change as tears started to tingle and brim up in his eyes.

He didn't want to lose Bradley, not completely. He'd been the only one who'd truly tried to understand the pain he'd felt when he thought Blaine was dead. Brad had been the only one who'd loved him in spite of it and had encouraged him to keep Blaine's memory alive. Only a couple weeks before on Blaine's birthday, even though they'd broken up only a week before, the other boy had sat with him while he reminisced about the boy he'd thought at the time was gone forever. He'd even offered to help with the cupcakes, even though Kurt had insisted _that_ was something he had to do alone.

"Best friends," Bradley corrected in a soft voice, reaching over to squeeze his hand tightly. When Kurt looked over at him he noticed that he wasn't the only one fighting hard to hold back a set of tears. "I'm going to miss you when you're in Ohio Kurt. I think I might miss you already."

"I'm going to miss you too," he sniffled, drawing the other boy tightly into a hug. "We'll Skype, and write emails and stuff though."

"Yeah," Brad's voice was still incredibly soft. There was a pause, "Kurt- don't hate me for asking this, but- if he really had been dead... would you have come back to me?"

The words slipped into his brain and he thought for a long moment, trying to figure it out for himself. "I don't know. I can't know, not for sure but-" he sighed quietly, wondering if the truth would make Brad feel better or worse about the whole thing, "I _think_ I would've, eventually. It's just- that's not how it happened and-"

"It's okay to be glad that's now how it happened," Brad cut him off softly, apparently automatically knowing where his babbling had been about to go. "Considering the alternative I don't blame you at all Kurt. Not in the slightest, I swear. You're my best friend first and foremost. I want you to be happy. I know that with all that's happened lately, I won't be able to do that for you- make you happy." There was a bit of a pause as the other boy seemed to be mulling over his thoughts. "I've been thinking about it a lot and I- honestly, I don't think you'd make me happy either, not now. I'd be- too worried or insecure about our relationship. I'd always know in the back of my mind that you'd rather be with Blaine."

"I hate hurting you, even if apparently I'm good at it," Kurt let out with a sigh, slumping a little in the bench.

"I'm a big boy Kurt. I'm tough. I can handle it." The joke was weak and Brad echoed his sigh, before standing from their spot. "What do you say we get one last coffee before you go, on me?"

A smile slowly found his face and he felt his pained heart lift a little. He'd been terrified of losing this boy's friendship, but it seemed, thankfully, that he was stuck with it. "I'd like that Brad."

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: So the next chapter is already planned out and partially written, however I'm going to be in a place with no internet that Friday (the 13th) so I can't post it then. I'd post it Thursday but I have 8 hours of driving that day just to get to the place with no internet. Basically I'll be posting Chapter 33 on Saturday the 14th (after driving another 8 hours) or Sunday the 15th while I'm visiting my sister. It'll probably be the Sunday though. Sorry about that. I'll have further updates about scheduling when I post that chapter as well. I'm hoping that there aren't a lot of delays, but I'm visiting my sister for a week and a bit. We don't usually get to see each other often so I don't know if I'll be updating on time for Chapter 34. It depends on if I get it written up beforehand. Um then in August I'm going to visit my grandmother for two weeks and she doesn't have internet, so I may have to have a short hiatus then. I'm just hoping my aunt will let me use her internet at some point. I'm going to do my best to continue to update on (or at least close to) the schedule, I'm just letting you know ahead of time in case all this travelling gets in the way!

Sorry for the ridiculously long author's note and please leave me a review!


	33. Chapter 33:  One Step Closer

**Warning**: Non-explicit mentions of non-con. Some violence as well. Also mentions of suicidal thoughts (past mentions).

**A/N**: I know this chapter is incredibly late. I'm sorry. It is Wednesday and I'm going to try to get Chapter 34 up close to on time. It won't be up on Friday because I have this videography gig to do, but I'm aiming for Saturday or Sunday and I will have my sister constantly reminding me to write (you should really thank her for this, because she helped me brainstorm this chapter as well). Thanks for sticking with me guys!

* * *

><p>Chapter 33: One Step Closer<p>

An empty feeling was churning painfully in his gut as he sat still on the kitchen chair with a couple towels draped around his neck to protect his clothing from the hair that would soon be snipped from his head. It was a feeling he was entirely used to. It was the same position he sat in several times before when Pierre had cut his hair to suit the man's own desires.

Apparently Pierre had liked it long enough to grab into easily, but not so long it was girly. At least that's what the man had growled at him as he'd snipped at the locks.

It would be different this time; Blaine knew that much as he sat quietly, not speaking despite that both his parents were present in the room. It would be his mother cutting his hair (his father just seemed to not want him out of his sight) and it would be how _he_ wanted it. Somehow even that scared him. Each time he thought about going through with it his stomach lurched and churned painfully like it was now.

He felt his mother stand beside him and spray some water into his hair before combing out the curls so his hair lay straight, damp and lank. Then there was the feeling as she collected up a lock to start cutting and before he could stop himself the words were blurting out, "Stop."

Bianca dropped the lock of hair and crossed around so she was in front of him, "What is it Blaine?"

"I don't- I don't think I can do this," he murmured in a quiet voice, that familiar tenseness seeping into his muscles as he let his fingers clutch lightly over the bottom of the chair. "He doesn't like my hair short. I know he can't hurt me but every time I do something I know he wouldn't like it- it's just hard Mom."

His mother slid down onto her knees in front of him and took his hands, "No one ever said it wouldn't be, baby. I know it's hard and that you're still scared, but this is for you. I won't cut your hair if you don't want me to, but is this how you really want it? If you like your hair the way it is we'll leave it, but if you want to cut it, we will. Besides if you don't like what I do with it, it'll always grow back. It's up to you Blaine."

"Kurt said he likes it curly too," he mumbled quietly, as if it were an excuse.

"Son," his father's voice broke in, garnering his attention. "Kurt loves you whether your hair's curly or short and would still even if you were bald, but that's not what this is about. It's not about what Kurt wants or likes. It's about what you want; what you like. I think it's about time you did something for yourself. This isn't about anyone else or what they want. It's your hair Blaine, your decision."

Two years ago he'd never have thought getting a haircut would be so hard. He tensed a little before nodding his head. He was going to do this. He was going to take back a part of himself, even if it was the smallest bit. "Okay. Do it. Cut it like it used to be, please?"

"I'll do my best," his mother promised and he felt her take up the lock of hair again before cutting the first snip.

He didn't move even if tears started building up in his eyes and silently find their way down his cheeks. Something this simple wasn't supposed to be this hard. His whole life felt like it was way off track. He could only hope that this haircut, as difficult as it was, would get him one step closer to finding his way back on track.

More hair dropped onto the towels protecting his clothing and he sat, silent and still, moving only when his mother gently requested him to move his head at different angles.

His head felt lighter as the discarded bits of hair fell away, lifting weight away from his skull, but his stomach felt heavier. Blaine knew, without a doubt, that even if no one punished him for getting his hair cut during the day, that Pierre would do it as he slept if his mother was firm on her stance on Nyquil.

It felt like he'd been sitting there forever when his mother started lightly brushing him off before removing the towels. She held up a hand mirror for him after he wiped his face on his sleeve furiously, "What do you think Sweetie? Does your mom still have what it takes to be a hairdresser?"

Studying the reflection for a long moment he managed to find a little of himself staring back at him for once. It wasn't gelled down like he used to do, but the much shorter hair almost made him look like the boy who'd gone missing so long ago; almost. His face was still too thin and his eyes still too haunted for him to look quite the same. Even if he managed to gain some weight and lose that haunted, darkened look, he'd still have the new scar to remind him that the Blaine he used to be had been lost long ago.

"It looks great Mom, thanks," he faked a smile for her benefit, reaching a hand up to touch it lightly. It felt different, having his hair so short, but at the same time it was familiar. He ran the hand through it self-consciously, "I like it, really."

"But?" His mother asked expectantly.

"I still," he bit down on his lip and looked down to the floor. "I still think he'd be pissed at me, you know? Just knowing that- I know it's going to be in my dreams and- it scares me Mom."

"I made you an appointment for Monday with a doctor who specializes in stuff like this," his mother immediately tried to reassure him. "She'll help you deal with that, I promise. She's very highly recommended-"

"What about tonight and tomorrow night?" He asked in a small voice.

"Anytime you wake up or you're scared you just call for me, okay?" She told him, gently squeezing her hand around his fingers.

"It makes me feel like a toddler," he admitted, his voice only a little sour, "having to call for my mommy because I had a bad dream-"

"Hey," his mother's voice was firm, "after everything you've been through you're allowed to need your parents. You have a right to need comfort after dreams like those. You don't need to feel silly or bad about that at all. Baby, if you didn't need me I'd be even more worried. Things like this don't handle themselves overnight."

"Your mother's a smart woman Blaine. You ought to listen to her," his father added in quietly. "You needing us isn't a bad thing. It's nothing to be ashamed about. You've been through so much and we- we want to be there for you. So please- just let us, okay? We need it just as much as you do."

Swallowing the thick lump in his throat he looked between both his parents for a long moment. The idea of suffering through those nightmares again terrified him. Even when it was over it seemed to still go on. It made him wonder if the pain would follow him for the rest of his life. At least his parents love him though. He could see it shining in their eyes, radiating off of them. That was something. Maybe he could bear it then. Maybe he could bear it if he could let himself let them help him.

Somehow he still wasn't sure.

* * *

><p>"Nice place you got here," Santana brushed her way into the apartment when he answered the door. Brittany was on her heels. "Where's Gigantor and his pet hobbit?"<p>

"Finn and Rachel are in class," Kurt explained, a frown on his face as Santana made herself at home, not that he hadn't expected that. He just hadn't expected her to show up unannounced with her girlfriend in tow. "What are you doing here?"

"We agreed we'd see each other before you left and you didn't tell me when you were leaving so here I am," she shrugged her shoulders before inspecting her nails a little. "Did you thank Blaine for me?"

"I- not yet," he spoke slowly, before giving her a curious look. "What exactly am I supposed to be thanking him for again?"

She let out an irritated sigh, "Never mind it Lady Lips. I'll thank him on Thanksgiving or something. It'd certainly be the appropriate timing." She let out a humorless laugh before leveling a serious stare in his direction, "How are you dealing with all this crap." She waved her hands in the air a little.

"Santana I appreciate your concern but I don't want to talk about it-"

"Sure you don't," she rolled her eyes at him and gave Brittany a knowing look. The blonde girl just blinked back at her, apparently not comprehending the look at all. "Look how's this for a deal: You open up and admit shit sucks right now and I'll tell you the thing about why I wanna thank your boy?"

"No thanks Santana," he turned away from her and headed towards his small bedroom where he was still packing up some of his belongings. Santana and Brittany just followed in behind him, making it a cramped space. "He's not 'my boy' either. He doesn't _belong_ to anyone-"

"That's not what I meant, Kurt," her voice was strangely soft. "You know that."

"Kurtie," Brittany's voice was soft when she finally spoke, "I don't want you to be sad anymore. I thought now that Blaine came back you wouldn't be sad anymore but you still look sad. Talk to me and San, we can help, promise."

"Brittany I am really happy Blaine's back now," Kurt let out a sigh with the words, "but it's still not that simple and I'm sorry but I really don't want to talk about it right now."

"San says she thinks he hurt you, not Blaine but the other guy," Brittany mentioned in a small voice. "Did he?"

He stared at the blonde girl for a moment before his eyes flickered to Santana momentarily, "I got hit Brittany, that's it. I've got some bruises that'll heal up soon enough. Neither of you need to be so concerned-"

"Yeah I don't believe that Hummel and neither do you," Santana commented bluntly. "You suck at lying. I mean, are you even trying 'cause I can see right through it and Britts can too, right Britt?"

"Right," Brittany nodded her head shortly.

The familiar strains of his ringtone gave him a much needed distraction and he pulled out his cell phone to check the caller ID. "Look Santana, Brittany, this isn't a good time. Blaine's calling and I missed out on talking to him last night so- I might be on the phone awhile."

If that wasn't a clear hint for them to leave he didn't know what was. Thankfully the girls took the hint, but Santana gave him a significant look as she exited his bedroom with Brittany that said clearly that she wasn't about to let it drop.

At the very least it was over in the short term.

He raised the phone to his ear, "Blaine?"

* * *

><p>"Blaine?"<p>

Hearing Kurt's voice, even just over the phone, solidified it. Even though Kurt wasn't here and he was, it made it seem just a little more real. It almost felt like he was really home.

It wouldn't compare at all to when he was here with Kurt again, like they had been when his parents were out of town back before Pierre had ever set eyes on him; back when he'd been carefree. It wouldn't be the same, but it didn't change the fact that Kurt made him feel safe; even just hearing his voice made him feel safer.

"Hi," his voice was soft when he managed to get a word to formulate from his lips. "I miss you."

"I miss you too Honey. I tried to call last night but your mom said you'd gone to bed and that yesterday really exhausted you-"

"I'm sorry," he murmured quietly, shifting a little in his cross-legged position on his bed.

"Don't be. I don't blame you Blaine. It was a long day for you, I know that," Kurt reassured him in a sure voice. "You need your sleep just as much as the rest of us, maybe more. Plus I get to talk to you now and that's what matters." There was a quick pause over the phone, "Has it- does it feel weird, being home?"

"It's just hard to believe," he whispered his answer honestly. "I keep thinking what Pierre would- I cut my hair today." It was a complete change in subject, but he needed Kurt's response.

"That's nice Honey. You'll send me a picture on your phone later right? Although I'm sure you look just as handsome as always." Kurt paused momentarily when he didn't answer right away, "Blaine?"

"Sorry I just- you're not- Pierre would have been angry and-"

"I'm not Pierre," the words sounded choked and Blaine immediately felt his heart lurch in his chest.

"I know it's just hard because I-I- I'm not used to this anymore Kurt. Everything's so strange and I don't know what I'm doing and I'm still so scared. I know I don't need to be but I am and I can't make it go away." The words came out in a rush, joined by dampness running over his cheeks. "I know you're nothing like him and that no one in my family is, but I just- I can't- it's like he's _all_ I know."

"We'll change that," Kurt promised him through the phone. "Someday we'll make it all into a really painful, but somehow still bearable, memory. You'll know different, better, I promise."

The thick lump in his throat was nearly choking him and he forced himself to swallow it down, "You really think so?"

"I do Blaine, I do," Kurt reassured him.

"I don't know if I believe that," he admitted after a moment of silence. "Kurt I just don't get it."

"Get what-"

Tears continued to well in his eyes and no amount of practice or will power could seem to keep them at bay. "It's over. Isn't it supposed to hurt less now? How does it feel like it hurts worse than it ever did when I was with him? How does that make any sense? I can't do this Kurt. I can't do this. I don't want to go back but I can't do this either."

That's when the sobs broke out.

"Honey, Blaine," Kurt sounded like he was at a loss even though Blaine could barely hear the words as the internal pain seemed to be breaking up and out of him. "Blaine I'll come back sooner I promise. I'll switch my flights. I'll help you. I'll do whatever it takes to make things better for you, I promise. It'll be okay. One day it really will."

"It's not okay. It'll never be okay. It wasn't okay Kurt. It wasn't okay what he did-" the short sentences were broken up by intermitted sobs.

"No it wasn't, but _you_ will be." Kurt spoke in a quiet voice, his voice managing not to lose its soothing quality even through the tinny static of the phone.

"You'll really come back sooner?" He croaked out hoarsely, managing to choke back one of his sobs to get the words out.

"I'll try for Monday," Kurt promised in a quiet voice. "I'll have Rachel and Finn help me pack so I'll get everything ready for the movers. Two days baby; I'll do whatever it takes to be there in two days, okay Blaine?"

He sniffed back, still trying to keep his shuddering body in control as his chest started to tighten. "Two days," he repeated quietly, more to himself than to Kurt, as if it would calm him down.

"Two days Blaine," Kurt reiterated.

"Why does it hurt more now than it did then, Kurt? It doesn't make any sense to me. I can't- it doesn't make any sense," he whispered. His mind felt like it was stuck in a sieve and all he could think about seemed to be how much it hurt.

As wonderful as it was to be home and to know he was surrounded with people who loved him the disbelief that still lingered and the overwhelming pain seemed to be all he could focus on; that and the terror. The world had already betrayed him once. What was to stop it from doing the same thing all over again?

"I don't know Blaine. I don't have an answer for that," the words were halting and the other boy's voice sounded almost broken. "I love you and that- it's all I have to offer. I'm sorry I can't- I'm sorry I just don't have the answers baby. I see you- I see my boyfriend in so much pain and I just don't have the answers. I'm sorry Blaine- I-"

"I'm your boyfriend?" The intermitted sobs that had started to slow finally faded a little more.

There was a pause of silence. "I thought we talked about it," Kurt's voice was a little uncertain. "Remember you asked if we were still and-"

"You said we never broke up. We were just apart."

"And I meant that Blaine."

"I'm not going to be a very good boyfriend to you Kurt. I won't be able to do anything. The only thing he didn't ruin for me was kissing. Can you- I know you said you were a virgin but- I mean you had boyfriends." He swallowed thickly, wiping his face a bit with the back of his hands, "I won't be able to give you anything-"

"I don't care about that stuff. I care about you," Kurt's voice was firm as he spoke. "As for the rest of it I think that's a conversation best left for when I come back to Ohio." There was another pause as Kurt took a few breaths that could be heard through the phone line. "Blaine- I know that sex isn't going to be an option any time soon and that doesn't bother me. I don't want anything from you that you're not willing or not ready to give, okay honey?"

"Okay," he murmured, the insistent disbelief still lingering like a tumor in his mind that he just couldn't exorcise. Whether he was 'willing' or 'ready' had never mattered before.

"We'll talk more about it if we need to when I come home," Kurt promised him in a gentle voice, "and whatever you need, that's what I'll be okay Blaine, because I love you."

"I love you too," he murmured out softly, wishing he didn't have to put down the phone until Kurt returned.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Well another chapter up! Chapter 34 is partially written already and involves Blaine getting to meet his nephew and a few other things.

Please leave a review and suggestions are always welcome! They're really helpful too.


	34. Chapter 34: Uncle Blaine

**Warning**: Non-explicit mentions of non-con. Some violence as well. Also mentions of suicidal thoughts (past mentions).

**A/N**: What's this? An update? I know updates lately have been sporadic at best. What can I say to make you not hate me? It's been awhile since I updated and I'm truly sorry. After leaving my sister I had a bit of an emotional crisis around the anniversary of my cousin's passing and now I'm pretty much a fulltime babysitter to a four year old little girl who seems to be pretty attached to me, meaning I've barely had a moment to myself. Basically I've been a bit short on time lately. Now my eight year old cousin is over and luckily she's pretty attached to him too and that's why I got the time to write this. However my babysitting duties will be over on August 20th so hopefully I have more time then. This summer has just been kind of hectic. Anyways I'm sure you're not keen on my excuses but rather this long awaited chapter. Please enjoy.

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><p>Chapter 34: Uncle Blaine<p>

He was curled up on the couch and laying his head on its arm as he stared at the television screen blankly, not even really taking in whatever show was on. He wasn't even sure what it was, but no one was bothering him and the quiet was nice.

At least it would have been if his parents hadn't been exchanging conspiratorial looks all day. He was almost positive that if Brianna weren't at school she'd have been in on it too. It seemed he was the only one left out of the equation. Obviously they had some kind of surprise planned, but he wasn't sure how he felt about surprises anymore.

He hoped they hadn't signed him up for school yet or anything. He wasn't sure he was ready for that. He wouldn't be for a least a few weeks- if he ever was. The idea of all the questions that would no doubt be thrown his way and constantly being surrounded by so many people made him feel queasy and more than a little lightheaded.

Distantly he heard the front door to the house open and he started a little, suddenly listening very carefully. Brianna wasn't due back for school and his parents were just in the adjoining kitchen finishing up their lunches.

His fists clenched tightly. Joey almost always called before he came by, so who had just walked into their house?

That's when he heard a young sounding cooing noise.

He relaxed his tense muscles a little as he stood from the couch. It was Joey after all. Apparently the surprise was B.B. He wasn't sure how he felt about that either.

"Blaine Sweetheart, you have a visitor," his mother's forcefully cheery voice called to him softly from the kitchen.

"Blaine I want you to meet someone," Joey came into the room with a chubby baby in his arms that had a dark curly spattering on top of his head and wide hazel eyes. "This is Blaine Bennett, but we all just call him B.B."

Blaine stood still for a minute, hardly understanding why his brother was still coming closer. Then when Joey stopped he relaxed a little more, gazing at the little boy who was staring at him with a surprisingly scrutinizing gaze for a five month old.

"Well go on, say hello," Joey prodded him gently.

"Hi there B.B.," He greeted in a soft voice before tentatively reaching out to stroke a finger gently down the boy's velvety soft cheek. "I'm your Uncle Blaine." The baby grasped his finger tightly in his tiny fist and he found a small smile gracing his face when he lightly shook his nephews little hand with his finger. "It's nice to meet you."

The little boy let out a shriek of giggles and reached out his chubby little arms.

Joey tried to gently push the giggling boy into his arms, but Blaine shook his head, stepping back automatically as the smile dropped from his face. "I-I can't Joey."

"Why not? I know you won't drop him," Joey tried again but he just stepped back once again. "You're more careful than that."

"I'm not- he's perfect Joey, but- I just can't," he shook his head. "I can't ruin that."

His older brother stared at him for a long moment, "What exactly are you talking about?"

Blaine just looked down at the floor and shrugged his shoulders.

"You're not diseased Blaine-"

"Yeah well the blood tests say otherwise!" He growled back, aiming the words towards the floor as tears grew in his eyes.

"Damn it Blaine it'll go away. As long as you take those pills it'll be gone by next week. You're fine and besides you can't give a baby Chlamydia by _holding _him." Joey shook his head as he carefully jostled the baby in his arms to keep the little boy calm. "You listen to me right now. Just because someone hurt you doesn't make you diseased or whatever it is you're thinking. I know he probably told you that no one cared or that you were worthless but it's not true. He lied to you Blaine."

"Yeah well when for two years someone tells you you're stupid, disgusting and ruined you start to believe it," Blaine mumbled.

"How many times do we have to tell you you're not before you start to believe us, your family, who actually loves you?" Joey asked, stepping forward again. He settled B.B. in one arm and gently pulled Blaine's arms out one at a time, before pressing the little boy into them.

Blaine held the small child close to his chest as tiny fingers reached up to grasp his nose and his hair and a tiny giggle escaped his nephew. "I don't know." He focused solely on the five month old child in his arms who was looking up at him curiously. "Hi B.B."

The baby let out a happy sound, the curious eyes shining bright with glee and innocence as the small hand tugged sharply on one of his curls.

"I-I'm your Uncle Blaine," he whispered, ignoring the hair pulling. Instead he felt something rising up automatically in his chest. "I'll be the best uncle I can, okay. All you have to do is bear with me. Can you do that for me B.B.?"

The child just giggled at him again, his wide eyes staring up at him.

That's when he recognized the feeling. It was automatic. He loved his nephew, wanted to protect him if he could. He would do anything to keep those eyes innocent.

"Changed your mind about being in his life already, huh?" Joey asked in a soft voice.

"You should change your mind about letting me. If he's going to look like me and be named after me, just imagine what'll happen if my presence makes him act like me. Don't you remember what I was like when I was little," the joke was weak, but at least he meant it; "jumping all over the furniture and singing as loud as I could?"

"Alright, give me my son back," Joey joked, smiling at how quickly his little son had turned on a light in Blaine he hadn't seen in over two years.

He tried to hand his nephew back over to his father almost immediately but Joey just shook his head. "I was just joking Blainers."

"Oh," he shuffled the boy in his arms again. He kind of knew that Joey was just joking, but Pierre had joked all the time- or at least pretended to. He'd lost count of the times he'd thought something was a joke and had gotten punished because he'd misinterpreted. Either that or the man just liked making up excuses to punish him. Something told him it was the latter.

He tried his best to put it out of his mind. It was impossible, so instead he pushed it as far back as he could manage and tried to focus on his little nephew. Despite how adorable the child was, it wasn't easy to keep the other thoughts out of the forefront of his mind.

"Um," he looked over at his brother again, "so what do I do?"

Joey let out a small laugh. "He's five months old. He mostly just rolls over at this point but he'll be crawling before too long. He's got a play seat around here somewhere that mom and dad bought. He loves it. He may not be able to do much yet but watching him smile and laugh might just be the best thing in the world."

He looked back at the little boy and found himself unable to disagree.

"Think you can handle watching him for a bit? I need to talk to Mom, Dad and Ness about something."

"Yeah sure," he mumbled, a little taken aback at how quickly Joey was to trust him with his child. "You're not leaving though, right… just in case I mess up?"

"You're not going to, but yeah we're going to talk in Dad's study so if you need me or anything just holler." Joey handed him the little green diaper bag adorned with teddy bears and little cartoon dinosaurs. "Everything you could possibly need is in there Buddy. Have fun."

"Where's the play seat?" He asked nervously, unsure of what he was going to do left all alone with this infant. His family had rarely left him to his own devices since he got back and now they thought him capable of caring for such a delicate little life. He wasn't even sure he could take care of himself, but admitting it out loud would just be too much.

"Check the hall closet. I think that's where Mom keeps it. Thanks Blainers." Joey gave him a little wave before leaving him alone in the living room with B.B. still cradled against his side with one arm holding him steady. B.B. just reached up and pulled on his ear, before patting his cheek and giggling.

"Well I guess it's just me and you for a bit, little guy," Blaine mumbled to the boy as he padded over to the hallway and checked out the closet. There was a green play seat with toys and balls and rattles lining around it. Obviously it was the thing Joey was talking about with the way B.B. gave out a high pitched, excited giggle.

He dragged it back over to the living room with his foot. Once he had it set up he set the little boy inside. A grin found his face almost immediately when B.B. batted at one of the rattles and laughing out loudly when it waved back and forth and lit up.

Joey was certainly right. This just might be the best thing in the world. He just wished he could enjoy it properly. In the back of his mind, despite the little boy's happy, laughing face, he couldn't help but feel fear. Only now it wasn't just for himself anymore.

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><p>Joey sat down next to his wife on the loveseat in his father's study. His father was seated in his office chair having pulled it out from behind his desk so that Bianca Anderson could sit comfortably in the Lazy boy recliner.<p>

"What's up Joe?" His father addressed him immediately, looking a little serious. "You had something important to discuss?"

He nodded his head and frowned. "Ness and I have discussed this and we're hoping that your offer to let us move into the house still stands. We wanted to ask before we let our lease expire or decided to renew it."

"You know the lot of you are welcome to live with us, my boy," his mother told him in her usual warm tone.

"That's not all we wanted to discuss," he squeezed Vanessa's hand a little as he spoke and gave a weak smile. "It's the reason we want to move back in." He swallowed a little. "It looks like there's nothing they can use to put Marc LaMontone behind bars and I'm not willing to take the chance that he might try to get revenge on Blaine, even if it was self-defence. Marc might not see it like that."

His father blinked, his face growing even more serious, "You think he might still be in danger?"

"It's a possibility," he admitted, the idea of his brother in danger tiring him to the point of exhaustion. "I'd feel safer about it if I was living here and if you'd give me permission to have some of my co-workers drive by and look in on the house when I'm not. They've volunteered to do it in shifts when they're off-duty."

"Well I can't in due conscience say no. Do it Joe. Do whatever you see fit if you think it'll keep Blaine safe." His father let out a sigh and ran a hand tiredly down his face. "They're still investigating the man right? They're not just letting him walk?"

"They're still investigating. They're just not finding much to connect him to the kidnapping," he grumbled out. "I tried to convince them to get someone to tail him, but the most they're willing to do at this point is check in on him a few times a day by having a patrol car drive by his house every once in a while. Other than that the Feds say they don't have enough to go on, which they don't, but it still pisses me off."

"We'll rent you a moving van and you can move in as soon as you want," his father told him and the inference was clear; with the new information the sooner he moved in the better.

"What about B.B. honey, aren't you worried about him?" His mother's voice was soft, "and Ness?"

"We've discussed it," Vanessa spoke up in a soft voice. "I'm not at all worried about my own safety and I know Joey's doing everything he can to make this house as safe for us as possible. Besides B.B.'s in a strictly run daycare during the day and they won't let anyone take him home that they haven't met before and hasn't been personally vouched for by either myself or Joe. During the evening we'll mostly all be home so he'll be safe enough. It's Blaine we're worried about the most."

"We were hoping we could move in the weekend after this one," Joey added after a moment. "I know I told Blaine I was worried about how he'd sleep with a baby in the house, especially since B.B.'s particularly fussy at night, but now- with this whole thing with Marc LaMontone- I can't see an alternative that keeps my little brother safe."

"We'll put B.B. in the room at the other end of the hall from Blaine's and put you and Ness in the large guestroom in the middle of the hall. Then you'll be in the center of everything and B.B. will be far enough away he won't wake Blaine," his mother suggested with a forced smile. "How does that sound?"

"Sounds like the best way to do it," Ness agreed with a forced smile of her own.

"Joey, how sure are you that this Marc character is going to come after Blaine?" Leo asked him, his voice wavering just slightly with apparent worry.

He was almost certain of it. Something in his gut told him that Marc was livid about his brother's death, especially if he'd cared about Pierre even just a fraction of the amount he cared about his own brother, but he wasn't sure that was the best thing to tell his father. Leo might never let Blaine out of the house again and while it might keep his little brother a bit safer, it wouldn't be good for the healing process and it would be a process. Of that he was sure. "It's a possibility Dad. I just want to take some extra precautions, just in case. After two years of thinking he was gone forever I just want to be careful, that's all."

His father's gaze hardened on him for a long moment, but in the end he didn't comment on the lie (half-truth, he told himself) he'd just told.

"So how's Saturday for the move in day? Are you and Mom still going to be off work or are you going back-"

"I'm starting back at the beginning of next week. Your mother has decided to take a few months leave of absence from her firm so we'll both be home when you move in," his father clarified for him. There was a long moment of silence, "They are going to get him eventually, aren't they Joe? We need to know that one day all of this will really be over. Blaine needs it especially."

His father was right and he knew it because he needed it just as much as the rest of them did. The only one who needed it more was his brother. "I'm pushing as much as I can Dad, but with the FBI in charge there's not much I can do personally. They're being pretty strict about not having me involved. The most I've gotten them to promise is that they'll let me watch when they bring him in for questioning and I'm not even sure when that's going to be yet, but I promise you Dad, for Blaine I'm going to do everything I possibly can."

He would too. He'd do whatever it took, especially if he ever got wind that the FBI was considering giving up.

If he had to he'd run an investigation of his own. As a matter of fact, it didn't seem like a bad idea.

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><p><strong>AN**: Well I suppose I should go. Stephanie says I'm spending too much time on my "'puter". Please leave a review and thank you so much for bearing with me!


	35. Chapter 35: No Words

**Warning: **There are mentions of (non-graphic) non con and also mentions of suicide attempts/self-harm. The non con is mentioned as past encounters however the suicide/self-harm theme may be a trigger to some.

**A/N**: Well I've got good news and bad news. The good news is I'm still committed to finishing this story and I will. This also ISN'T a hiatus notice. The bad news is the over a month wait I've forced on you due to two things. First is that I had this chapter mostly written but my computer had a hiccup and it was lost so I had to completely rewrite it (honestly I'm still not happy with the way this turned out. I feel the original was better but it's been impossible to completely recreate). The second is a family crisis on my end. My uncle was recently diagnosed with brain cancer and things don't look good. Basically I can no longer hold to my weekly updates. I'll be putting aside time to write and posting chapters I just can't promise one every week any longer. I hope you understand and still enjoy this chapter.

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><p>Chapter 35 – No Words<p>

It felt ridiculous lying there curled on his side under the blankets and clutching his pillow. There wasn't supposed to be anything to be afraid of anymore. No one was going to come into his room with predatory intentions.

Nonetheless his arms tightened around his pillow as his legs twitched restlessly.

He hadn't taken into account how afraid he was to simply close his eyes to fall asleep. Sleep was something he desperately needed and wanted, but he'd only wake up exhausted an hour or so later after having Pierre appear in another one of his nightmares.

Blaine never wanted to see Pierre LaMontone again and just a few days ago it seemed he might have a chance. Pierre was dead and the nights he'd shared with Kurt had been free of dreams entirely, only the continual comforting presence of protective arms around him. The idea hadn't lasted after the first nightmare. He knew immediately there'd be more.

So it only made sense that he was lying here trying to keep himself from disregarding his mother and drinking a half a bottle of NyQuil. His body was hot and positively thrumming from exhaustion and anxious energy. It made his arms reluctant to release his pillow and his legs itch to move.

A single momentary decision was all it took to solve both problems.

Just the idea of it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up on end, but somehow he found himself silently trying to sneak downstairs so he could go against his mother's wishes. The ever present fear of punishment and its familiar terror were there, so much so that he had to force his legs to make the journey; desperation for real sleep had set in.

Blaine slipped into the kitchen before going to the fridge. The little blue bottle seemed to call out to him with the reminder that sleep would soon be within his grasp. All he had to do was succumb to the temptation.

His trembling hand grasped around the bottle and pulled it from the refrigerator only to set it immediately back where he found it. It wasn't just retribution holding him back. He knew his mother probably wouldn't have the heart to punish him (although that didn't ease the fear as much as it should've), but the sad look he knew she'd have if she ever found out.

Then the image of a very pale face flashed into his mind and without conscious thought the bottle was in his hands again. It wasn't a 'want' anymore. He needed it to drown Pierre's face from his mind, even if just for a little while. He measured out a double dose and let it slide down the back of his throat. He'd just have to make sure his mother never knew. His only solution was to dilute it for tonight. It wouldn't be long until he had the deal real, a prescription hopefully, to keep his nights dreamless.

After he'd successfully added a little water to the medication so it looked somewhat untouched, at least for the moment, he put it back and padded towards the stairs, and hopefully a good night's sleep.

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><p>The small crystal glass and its amber contents seemed to both glare at him accusingly and beckon at him at the same time. It was just one drink to anyone else, but to Leo, and to his family, it would to unforgivable. Finally his son was home and alive and needing him to be strong. He couldn't fall off the wagon now. It wasn't just Blaine that needed him, but his entire family. Still it would be so easy to drain the glass; so easy and so damaging.<p>

A long sigh escaped his lips and he lifted the little glass of scotch. The only one who was drinking it tonight was the bathroom sink. He couldn't give in so easily when it was his youngest son who was really suffering, not him, even if it was Blaine's suffering that tore him apart.

Leo braced his feet against the floor in preparation to stand when a long creak alerted him to the bedroom door opening.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Bianca's voice made him look up sharply. "That better be you drinking some kind of tea from a glass because if that's what I think it is… we need you Leo. Your son needs you, we all do and we need you sober."

"I am sober-"

"Really," she cut him off scathingly, "because it sure looks like your favourite scotch in that glass."

He let out a great long breath. "I won't lie to you Bee, I was tempted. I wanted to, but I swear to you I didn't drink any. You can smell my breath-"

"I'm not going to do that," the ire seemed to drop away instantaneously and instead of angry his wife just looked weighed down. Her eyes weary she sat down on the side of the bed next to him. "I believe you," she told him quietly as she placed a hand over his, "but I do need you to tell me why. Remember what your sponsor said?"

He remembered. If he was going to beat this he needed to entrust the emotions that drove him to the bottle to someone. All the same to say his thoughts out loud seemed wrong. He felt wrong just feeling them. "Bianca-" he started carefully. "I don't know if it would be good for the family if I explained what I was thinking just now."

"It's not good for the family to have a drunken patriarch," she reminded him more sharply this time. She calmed her tone after a moment and folded her fingers around his hand comfortingly. "I need you to tell me what's going on Leo. If you don't I'm afraid you might relapse and we need you."

He dragged a hand along his face and sighed again. "Bee, my love, I'm afraid you may hate me if I tell you what's going on in my head. It makes me hate me-"

"Which is why you wanted to drink," she finished for him quietly reaching to ensnare the glass from his hand before setting it down on the bedside table. "Leo I love you. I may be upset or angry with you but you're a good man, I could never hate you."

"I wished our son dead, that he'd died two years ago in that alley like I originally thought," he whispered the truth in his quietest voice and watched shock envelope his wife's face. Her jaw dropped slightly as for a moment she just stared, before red started creeping up her neck and into her face. "That's right Bee, I wished Blaine had really died- do you see now how I could hate myself?"

He forced himself to watch as his wife's eyes welled up and her hand pulled away from his only to pull back and strike open handed against his cheek. "Why Leo? Why would you wish something like that? He's your son-"

"And I love him Bianca, I do. I love him with all my heart. That's why," he started somewhat weakly, bringing his hand up to cup his face without commenting once on her decision to slap him. His mind was too busy being brought back to the night before. He could still hear his youngest son screaming and crying out in his sleep and how he'd been unable to go in and comfort him. Bianca had rightly insisted it be her, that a man in his room at night would probably just upset him more. "Bee I can't take it. My boy is in pain and there's nothing I can do. He's scared of me Bee. He tries to hide it but I see it in his eyes. He's afraid of strangers more, but he's still afraid of me, my own son."

"So somehow you thought it he was gone it'd be easier?" Her voice didn't soften. "Were you not around the last two years? Did you not see how this family suffered when he was missing? Never knowing if he was really alive or dead; knowing what the man who took him was capable of. Were you not here or were you just drunk during all of it?"

"I was there Bianca," he spoke slowly. "Unlike you I didn't have hope. I thought he was dead. I thought I heard my son being killed. Those two years were hell on earth and the only thing that gave me any comfort-"

"-was alcohol?"

He stared at her for a moment before touching his cheek lightly again, "I deserved that, all of it." He paused again before continuing, "The only thing that gave me comfort was that I believed his suffering was over. I thought he was dead and when I did I didn't have to see him suffer. I just- it was a passing thought of maybe it would've been better. He wouldn't have suffered the last two-" a pair of eyes suddenly peering through the crack in the door stopped him straight off.

He stood from the bed, his eyes still locked on the pair that peered tearful and shining at him. "I know Bee. Getting Blaine back was a miracle. You're right. I don't know what I was thinking." There was another pause, "Blaine, what you heard-"

Bianca's head whipped towards the door and Blaine dashed down the hall. "Leo, what have you done?"

"I did what I do best, he growled it at himself as he ran towards the door and after his son, "I screwed up."

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><p>Salt water was trailing down his face as he locked the bathroom door behind him before he sank down on the tiled floor and let his face fall into his hands. For a few days it seemed like things might get better. He was home, no one was raping him other than in his nightmares and he was surrounded by family who loved him; except apparently it had been easier on them when he was dead. Well, that was easily remedied.<p>

He clutched his knees to his chest for a second as he heard someone rattle the doorknob.

"Son let us in," he heard his father yell through the door. "You misheard me Blaine. It wasn't what it sounded like.

Honestly he didn't see how it could be portrayed as anything else. He should've died in that alley two years ago. He pulled himself off the tile as his father fought with the sturdy oak door and its lock and grabbed his disposable razor from the sink.

Blaine flipped it face down on the porcelain of the sink and grabbed the heavy toothbrush cup, bringing it down to crush the plastic that held the blades. The loud 'thunk' that resulted echoed through the bathroom.

"Hey," his father's voice rose a little higher in pitch. It was funny, he almost sounded panicked but that couldn't be. He was only giving his dad what he wanted. "What's going on in there? Blaine?"

Once upon a time he would've only answered with stubborn silence, but the last two years had changed him. When he opened his mouth his voice was wet and cracked hoarsely, "I'm giving you what you want."

His father seemed to pound on the door harder and he had to fight the urge to let him in. If he had done this in the apartment… well he wouldn't have. Pierre would've beaten him half-unconscious by now.

Blaine lifted one of the razors and stared at it for a split second before he heard a wicked thud and the door shook on its hinges. He glanced down at his already partially bandaged arm and dragged the blade down hard next to the older wound, he inhaled sharply as blood beaded from the cut and immediately dripped down his forearm. He watched for two seconds before bringing it down again with another small gasp.

"Blaine, open the door right now before I kick it down," his father's voice was rough with what sounded strangely to him like distress.

Skinning his lip with his teeth he stared at the door for a moment, contemplating the idea of flicking the lock back open. His father had given him an order. Orders were meant to be obeyed, but if he did they'd stop him. It left him wondering whether or not he wanted them to.

"Blaine?!"

He wasn't sure for which reason it was, but he flicked the lock and his parent's barrelled into the bathroom.

His father immediately grabbed a hand towel, gripping his arm hard in case he tried to pull away and pressed the towel to the cuts. His mother simply seemed to collapse to the floor beside him and envelope him in her arms.

Blaine didn't resist any of it. In comparison to Pierre's his father's grip was exceedingly gentle and if he were honest it felt good to have his mother there holding him and rocking him shamelessly in her arms like she did when she'd first seen him in the hospital.

"Leo," his mother whispered, "how bad is it? Should I call an ambulance?"

His dad just frowned as he peeled back the hand towel slightly to look at the cuts. "They're not deep Bee, but it might be better if we drove him to the ER and got him looked at just in case-"

"No," he uttered in a barely audible voice. "They'll put me under suicide watch for seventy-two hours right? No, Mom, Dad, please. I'll be fine I promise-" The idea of a suicide watch separated from the only people who made him feel worth anything sent anxious heat through his body. He could still remember the 'suicide watch' Pierre had forced him to endure and something made him wonder if it would even be any different at the hospital. It would still be seventy-two hours confined to a bed somewhere, possibly restrained.

His parents seemed to exchange a long look before his father opened his mouth to speak again, "That might not be the worst thing Blaine. They'll have immediate help- you won't have to wait for your appointment with Dr. Francis to talk about things and I think you need that right now buddy-"

He just shook his head. "That's not what I need. I need to stay here, please. I won't- I can't be alone, not there like that- what if they don't let you stay, or see me? No. No. I'm nineteen, right? I can say no to stuff like this if I want to, can't I?"

"It's not whether you can Blaine, it's whether you should-"

"Please I'm sorry," his body sagged against his mother as his eyes started to feel hot and itchy with tears once again. "I won't anymore I promise. It was a mistake. Everything just hurts and I thought it'd be easier. It'd be easier right? That's what you said. I wouldn't feel this anymore and you wouldn't see me feel it-"

"No it wouldn't be easier," his father's voice growled low. "We wouldn't see you in pain but we wouldn't see you Blaine. We wouldn't get to be near you or see you heal or grow up or be happy. One day you will be happy Blaine. You have that chance now, we all do."

"I just don't want to go," he whispered, closing his eyes for a moment like it would block everything out. Instead he felt his heavy eyes have to force themselves to get back open, "I'm so tired, please don't make me. I'll be fine. I'll be good-"

"Hey, hey," his mother's voice broke in softly, "if we did say we wanted you to go it wouldn't be a punishment Sweetheart. It'd be for your own good."

He craned his neck to stare at her at that comment for a long moment, his eyes widening slightly as fear crept into his bones.

"Sweetheart?"

He swallowed the new lump in his throat and pushed the thought away. It didn't matter if her words mirrored the ones Pierre used to say to him before doling out punishments; obviously she meant it differently, or just actually really meant it.

Instead of answering he just turned his heavy eyes towards the grip his father had on his wrist as it lessened its pressure momentarily to peel back the makeshift bandage and check if it had stopped bleeding. "I think that after-all a little first aid will be fine," his father spoke gently when their eyes locked. "There's no need to go to the hospital just now, but Blaine you know we can't just ignore this, right? We can't risk losing you again. What you heard- it's shock, son. I'm just still so taken aback by everything that's happened that I don't know how to deal with it. I never meant that Blaine. You have to know how important you are to me."

The words seemed to take a long moment to sink into his exhausted brain and when he finally responded he found himself only taking one piece of information from the entire spiel. "So- that means I don't have to go, r-right?"

His father's face grimaced before he let out a heavy sigh, "Well partly yes, that's what it means."

The heavy, tired feeling that had been rapidly forming the last few minutes made the fight to keep his eyes open seem almost impossible. "M'really sorry Dad. I didn't mean it. Everything just- it feels like there aren't words for it. It hurts so much there are no words and I thought- I just don't know how to make it stop. That's all- I wanted it to stop."

"It takes time son. It'll get better I promise," his father's voice seemed to be coming at him from far away. "Blaine?" A hand very gently patted his cheek as he let his head loll back against his mother's shoulder.

"M'tired Dad. Can I go to bed now?" He mumbled as his eyes blinked slow and heavy. A pleasantly cottony feeling had filled up his mind that had him wishing desperately for his bed; the same bed that had felt so luxurious the first time he'd climbed into it since his life had turned into a cautionary tale.

A minute ago all he wanted was the pain to stop. Now all he wanted was to climb into bed and sleep; a medically induced sleep that made all the pain seemed to slip away into nothing, even if just for hours at a time.

"Of course son," his father's voice was low and soothing. "I just need you to let me bandage these, okay? You can go to bed right after, okay?"

There didn't seem to be a point in arguing so he just sat there in his mother's arms as she cried softly and his father started digging through the first aid kit they kept under the sink. He didn't exactly have enough arms to hug his mother to comfort her, but he leaned back and murmured in a soft, tired voice, "Mama, don't cry. I'll be fine, promise. It's okay. I'll be okay."

He felt cool air against his cuts as his father removed the towel and something warm and wet dropped onto his forearm. When his eyes slowly made their way to see what was going on he realized it wasn't some oddly warm form of antiseptic like he'd originally assumed.

There was a tear track on his father's cheek that looked like a match to the little salt droplet his father quickly dabbed away from the edge of one of the cuts. "Dad?"

"Almost there son," his father replied in the same low, soothing tone. "It'll just take a minute and you can go to sleep."

He couldn't wait the minute. Instead his eyes slipped shut and brain shut off as exhaustion, the sedatives and the minor blood loss completely set in. When he woke up the next morning bleary eyed, in his own bed with a bandaged arm it took him an entire sixty seconds to remember why.

It only took three to realize someone else was already in his bedroom.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Yeah sorry again about this wait I've forced upon you the last month and a bit (and maybe I'm a little sorry about the cliffhanger too). Things have just been rough. I'm going to finish this story though, that much I can guarantee. I actually have the ending written (not in completion but it's got several scenes and almost completely planned), it's the in between parts I have to flesh out. I'm really sorry I can't keep up with once a week updates (though I'm going to try, it's just no more promises I guess). The only thing I can say is I'm going to do my best not to leave you with this cliffhanger for too long. I hope you will all forgive me and still leave me a review. To all those still following this story I thank you!


	36. Chapter 36: Who You Are

**Warning: **There are mentions of (non-graphic) non con and also mentions of suicide attempts/self-harm.

**A/N**: I don't know what to say except thank you for your patience. When I wrote that cliff-hanger I did not expect it to last this long. Of course I also didn't expect to have to send my computer out for two weeks to get fixed, but that's only one of the reasons this took so long. Anyway it's up now so I hope you forgive me.

* * *

><p>Chapter 36 – Who You Are<p>

Bleary and disgruntled when Blaine first took in the silhouette of a man in his room he had to fight back a yelp until the blurry edges sharpened and he recognized the young man in his room as the person he'd been wishing to see most. "Kurt? What? I thought you weren't supposed to get here for another two days?" He moved to outstretch his arms for the expected hug, only to stop when an itching pain reminded him that Kurt would clearly see the new bandages on his right forearm.

Kurt stared at him for a long moment not moving forward, his eyes red and watery, "Your mother called me and told me what you did. I needed to see you and since your parents noticed you seem to feel safer when I'm around they said it'd probably be alright if I came in here to see you. I needed to see you Blaine. I needed to see you were alright. Blaine… Did you really think I wouldn't drop everything and come back here? Blaine I- did you stop to think that maybe I couldn't survive losing you again?"

"I didn't stop to think," Blaine whispered with a little shrug. He sank deeper into the bed, hot shame burning at his stomach. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Kurt just shook his head and ran a hand through his hair before hesitantly stepping forward to sit on the bed next to where he was lying before offering up his hand. "I thought I might die. I- it felt like my heart stopped beating until I saw for myself you were okay."

"I am okay, see?" He used his better arm to push himself to a sitting position rather than taking Kurt's.

Kurt just shook his head, carefully reaching his arm in a long slow gesture around Blaine's shoulders to squeeze him gently. "No you're not."

"Yeah okay," he admitted after a moment. "I'm not, but you can hug me harder if you want to. I won't break, not if it's you."

It was as if those were the very words his boyfriend (he still rejoiced a little inwardly at once again being able to refer to him that way) needed. Kurt's arms flew around him, dragged him gently close and held tightly. The other boy's face ducked down and burrowed into the dip in his shoulder while fingers clutched desperately at the back of his shirt, knowing better than to clutch at his bruised skin.

"How did you get here so fast? What about your stuff?" Blaine asked quietly when they drew back a little. He tried to blink a little of the sleep out of his eyes as Kurt answered.

"I didn't get here so fast. You've been asleep for twelve hours honey. I just packed a bag and hopped on the first flight I could find. Finn and Rachel promised to finish packing the rest of my belongings and see it off in the moving truck on Wednesday. I have enough for now, so here I am." Kurt's arms tightened, bringing him back a little closer to him. "I promised you I was only a phone call away and I meant it, even if you're not the one who called."

He made to move his arm to reach for the hand, only to stop in the middle with a grunt. The limb felt hot and heavy and hurt to move. Blaine let out a grimace at the thought of making another attempt to grab Kurt's hand or trying with the other, but the young man he'd fallen in love with as a boy just shifted closer to him and placed his hand over his, making it easier for him to curl his fingers around it.

"I'm sorry, you know," Blaine murmured.

"For trying to kill yourself?" The incredulity in Kurt's voice seemed incredulous in itself; there was such concern aimed his way. "Honey, you don't have to be sorry. I'm not angry with you and neither are your parents. We're just worried and scared. I don't want to lose you again."

"You won't-"

Lines of pain were creasing Kurt's young visage; "How can you say that when last night I nearly did?"

"It's not going to happen again-"

"Until when?" There was no accusation in his tone, just the soft questions, "Until you get overwhelmed again? Until someone insults you? You didn't think it was going to happen a first time so how can I believe you when you say it won't happen a second?" Kurt shook his head sadly.

"It has to get better, right?" The hoarseness in his voice got worse. "It gets better?"

"I'll make sure of it." Kurt's head dipped slowly to press a loving, chaste kiss against his mouth, being careful to kiss only the side without stitches. "I love you and I'll help you in whatever way you need okay?"

Right, Kurt loved him. It wasn't that he forgot really. It was more of a incomprehension. What was it inside this broken, battered boy that Kurt held so dearly? Did Kurt think the old Blaine was hiding in there somewhere? He wasn't sure he was. He was almost certain he wasn't. He was new; changed; different;

Damaged.

Whatever it was keeping Kurt at his side he clung to it, too paranoid at what the answer might be if he questioned it to really ask. He pressed closer into their embrace. "My parents are making me go see a therapist today-"

"Good." The word was tight, like it was holding back a waterfall of others. He wanted desperately for the dam to break; to hear the words whether they be angry or miserable in the chance they might make him feel it- the love that was layered underneath it all.

He didn't though. He had no doubt in his mind that it would cause Kurt pain. Instead he just said, "I know. I'm not arguing." He let out a pained smile. "I just thought, maybe if you weren't busy you'd come with my mom and I… just this first time?"

"I'll be there, and any other time you want me, okay?" He was practically drawn into the other boy's lap as Kurt clung to him. "I'll be wherever you want me to be, as long as you never leave me again. I can't lose you again Blaine, I can't. You don't know what it did to me. It was like someone drove their hand into my chest and ripped my heart out. I know you went through so much more, but please," the words were high and wet, "don't leave me again."

He could tell it was there. He could see the love, concern and Kurt was showering him with in the other boy's gestures and expression, but it was still so muted. He was numb; not to the knowledge of it but the feeling.

"Okay," he murmured softly. "I won't."

* * *

><p>It seemed impossible to hold himself still in the waiting room of the office Dr. Francis worked out of. It had a relaxing enough atmosphere with its warm brown walls and leafy green plants, but still his heart was beating hard in anxious apprehension. He was going to have to talk about it.<p>

Just the mere thought made his body shudder.

"It's going to be okay," Kurt murmured to him quietly, reaching over to squeeze his hand gently.

"Do you want to read a magazine or something Sweetheart?" His mother asked as her hand patted his shaking knee. "It might take your mind off things for a while."

"I'm just nervous. It's okay. I'm okay," he lied blatantly in a soft voice. He knew he wasn't fooling either of them but hoped that they'd drop it anyway.

Most of all he wanted them to believe him. He couldn't get it out of his head. He could barely remember what happened after his parents had broken down the bathroom door and before he'd woken up in his bed, but he did remember the Kurt from this morning; terrified and teary eyed with worry. That had been his fault.

"Blaine Anderson?" It was almost like he was saved from their worries as a woman a little younger than his mother called his name. Except quickly he realized this was the same woman he had to tell about the things he'd been forced to do.

"Do you want me to come with you, just at first?" His mother's voice was thoroughly laced with concern.

He turned his head to look at her, his eyes a little wide. "I think I'll be okay if you wait here," the words came out shakily. Talking about what Pierre did to him was scary, but the thought of doing it in front of his mother was downright terrifying. She didn't need to know the details. He wished he didn't.

He was sure the sounds were plaguing Kurt's mind too. He could see it in the way the other boy kept going to reach for his earbuds every time things went silent, before stopping and trying to give him a falsely encouraging smile instead.

Kurt had heard everything, had almost suffered the same, and was pretending badly to most of the world that he hadn't. The stiff, unsure, pained body posture and the oddly haunted glimmer in his light eyes gave it away.

After two years of seeing a similar look in the mirror it wasn't hard to see.

"Okay Sweetie," his mother's smile was warm as she interrupted his thoughts.

Right, the woman had called his name. He stood from the cushioned vinyl chair, his right arm secured in a sling that they'd picked up from the pharmacy against his chest, considering how hot and heavy it felt. It was another one of those things he was going to have to talk about "for his own good". He hated the saying.

He walked towards the woman who'd called his name, noticing with a little apprehension that it was only his first visit and she was already holding a thick manila file folder with his name on it.

"Blaine, it's nice to meet you." She smiled warmly at him and extended a hand for a moment, before dropping it at the slightly alarmed look that had to have come into his eyes when his body seemed to freeze. As soon as her hand dropped, his body seemed to decide to work again. "Why don't you come in and have a seat?"

He sank into the black leather armchair (the difference between the waiting room chairs and office chairs was immense) and rested his fidgeting hand in his lap.

The woman gave him a calming smile, "Well as you might've guessed I'm Dr. Francis, but if you like you can call me Jo and I hope you don't mind if I call you Blaine. I think it would be best if we're on a first name basis, but we can work up to that if you'd like."

"No, it's fine." He shrugged his shoulders a little bit as his eyes looked longingly at the door. There were a hundred things he'd rather be doing, like catching up with Kurt. "I-" he started after a quiet moment. Even if he didn't want to be here he knew it was expected of him to make an effort. "I don't know where I'm supposed to start."

"We can spend a few minutes getting to know each other?" She suggested helpfully. "If you like I can start and if you feel more comfortable after you can tell me a little bit about yourself?"

"I don't see why," he mumbled, his eyes locking on the thick file she'd since placed on the desk before sitting on the armchair a few feet across from him. "Everything's probably in there. You know what happened."

"All that's in there is the facts. It's what happened. It's not going to tell me who you are. You're more than what happened to you." Dr. Jo Francis stopped to pause for a moment, "What happened to you isn't who you are Blaine. There's a lot more to it than that."

He frowned and chewed on his lower lip. "Can we not talk about it yet, please?"

She gave him another warm smile and nodded her head. "I did say I'd tell you about myself a little. Well my name is Joanne and I grew up in Columbus. I've two children of my own and a wonderful sister. As for this, I've been working with teens and specializing in sexual trauma for ten years. Before that I was working with young adults eighteen to twenty-four."

"I'm not a kid anymore," he commented quietly. "Those years were stolen."

"Yes they were," she agreed quietly, "and maybe you're not a child anymore, but the abuse started when you were and has only stopped recently."

"You really think I'm still a kid because I was kidnapped? Time didn't stand still. The world didn't stop turning. Everyone moved on." The words were so bitter it nearly surprised him, but Jo didn't seem to even flinch.

"Except for you," The psychiatrist was frank but not unkind. "Your world did stop turning. You didn't experience the typical life events of a teenage boy reaching adulthood because you were unable to. Emotionally that can cause developmental delays, especially if the abuser demands that his victim to act the same day in and out for years. I'm not going to say you're still emotionally a teenager because I don't know that yet, but there are some indicators so it's a possibility and one worth exploring. However the reason you were referred to me was partially due to that possibility and in addition to my past as a counselor to young adults."

"Oh," he looked round the office instead of continuing his reply, taking in the rainbow flag sticker on the door that declared the office an LGBT safe space. "Well um, you said you wanted to know me, right?"

"In order to figure out how to best help you, yes," she told him gently.

"Well I'm gay, was that in the file?" He asked, a little curious, as well as oddly nervous. How exactly had the police and medical reports coloured him? He still remembered the one officer- the one who'd handcuffed him in the hospital and sent him into horrifically vivid hallucinations of Pierre. He wasn't about to forget him either.

"It wasn't stated outright," she told him, her voice honest. "However I was able to guess after reading the police report, particularly your statement and the way you wrote about Kurt Hummel." She paused momentarily. "However I'm glad you told me. I wouldn't have known for sure otherwise."

"Umm, you're welcome I guess," he mumbled.

"Why don't you tell me a little more? Whatever you're comfortable with, okay? It doesn't have to be about the kidnapping if you don't want it to."

"I used to love to sing," he uttered out quietly. The words came out almost without thinking, spilling out faster as he went on, "It was my favourite thing. I was even tinkering with song writing, but I feel like I've lost it. It was like nothing else mattered once I was onstage, but it's not like that anymore. I open my mouth and the words won't come out and it's killing me. Why can't I have control over this one little thing? It's supposed to be over and I still don't have any control over my body. I can't even do the only thing that used to make me the happiest… all because Pierre hated it."

The doctor's eyes visibly became extra interested at the mention of Pierre. "Do you feel comfortable telling me a little more about that?"

"He hated anything that made me happy, or me," Blaine told her before he even realized it. He hadn't expected the words to just come tumbling out of his mouth, but they did. "I learned pretty quickly that if I sung in the shower I'd be interrupted. Any other time he'd just hit me. I could handle that though, he hit me all the time. I guess- I guess he realized that- uh- interruptions worked better. After a while I just couldn't make myself sing, even when he was gone."

"Blaine what happened to you was horrific and wrong. It's understandable if you feel afraid to be yourself because you were treated like an object for so long. Was that what you were trying to say?" Jo's voice was gentle and a little cautious as she put exactly how he was feeling into words; like he'd been the toy of an overgrown, destructive toddler.

He nodded his head, feeling a little embarrassed at how easily and how quickly the tears had come to invade his eyes. "Yes. He- I never really realized it but that's how I felt; like a toy or a pet or something. I still kind of feel like that, like I'm waiting for him to come back for me. I don't even feel like me anymore. After two years of being nothing I don't know how I'm supposed to be now. And now you want me to tell you about myself and I don't know anymore. I never had any options and now all I hear is 'What do you want for dinner?' or 'What do you want to watch?' or 'What kind of clothes should I get you?' and I just don't know. They just don't seem to realize how much it's all stressing me out. It's this huge change and I know they're just trying to give me back what I wasn't allowed before but it's like I'm being bombarded. It's like I was actually relieved I was told I _had_ to do this- just so I wouldn't have to stress over a decision- is that weird?"

"It sounds to me like you need some time to adjust," she used the same gentle voice that seemed to be infused with genuine concern. "Your body and mind went into survival mode. You did what you had to in order to survive and he took advantage of it. He used human nature against you and that's not your fault. It also makes all of this," she made a vague gesture in the air with her hand, "very difficult. You're right; this is a big change for you. Have you tried discussing that with your family? I'm sure they'd understand where you're coming from."

"I'm not really used to standing up for myself either," he mumbled. "A part of me is still afraid. It's a big part."

"If you like we can schedule a family session and with your permission I can help you discuss it with them in a neutral, safe space?" The suggestion was made softly. "Sometimes it's easier when you have someone there to guide the conversation and help explain when things get tough."

He nodded his head reluctantly.

"Now Blaine I think I'd like to ask you about your arm. The medical report I requested from Lennox Hill doesn't say anything about a sling being necessary." The tone wasn't accusatory, but it was knowing and still so sympathetic.

Redness flooded his face, saturating his cheeks. "I- it's not too necessary, just really sore."

"Is that all there is to it?" She questioned again in the same neutral, calm voice.

"I-um- overheard my dad say something and I got really upset. I thought it would be better. For so long I thought the only way I was getting away from him was if he killed me. I just- it hurt and I cut myself. I didn't really mean it, or want to, but it felt like the only way…" he paused, bowing his head a little. "My parent's stopped me."

"I'm glad they did. No matter how much it hurts, that's not the only way to stop it. It's the worst way. Can you imagine how much that would have hurt your friends and family to lose you again so soon; to have lost you at all?" The doctor asked him, not unkindly.

"I know. I know, kind of. It's just- then- I didn't think losing me would hurt them as much as being around me might. I know that my pain hurts them," he whispered, guilt chewing at his insides.

Jo seemed to take all this in, "You said your father was the stressor? Can you explain?"

"I overheard him talking to my mother. I guess he tried to have a drink because seeing me made him want it. When he thought I was dead he started drinking heavily I guess, but he was getting better. As soon as I came home he wanted to drink again. I was hurting him and- and- it felt like they'd be better off… I know it's not really true, but I can't help but think it."

"Blaine I feel like you're holding something back here."

"I heard him say he thought it might've been better if I'd actually died when everyone thought I did. It was only because then I wouldn't have suffered an extra two years, but- I felt so worthless and unwanted and it was like all that was confirmed. My own father didn't want me back. At least that's what it felt like."

"So after two years of struggling to stay alive you decided to try to kill yourself?" Jo asked him.

"No," he shook his head. "After a year of being too afraid to kill myself I finally tried again. Last time it was Pierre that stopped me… on my eighteenth birthday." More tears slid down his cheeks like two minuscule rivers. "I'd had enough. I tried to hang myself but he caught me and he said if I ever tried again, or succeeded, he'd take Brianna to replace me. Brianna's my sister, you know; my little sister. I couldn't lose her- I couldn't, so I couldn't do anything. Now he's dead, Brianna's safe and I- it was an option again. Life- it was something I finally had some control over. I could choose when I would die- but I guess I couldn't do that either."

"That isn't real control over yourself, Blaine. That's letting your emotions and the memory of a man who terrorized you, control you." The reminder was sympathetic. "Real control is going to take time, hard work, and guidance. That's something we can work on here, if you'd like? It'll start small, but with time we can work our way up to the bigger stuff."

"It's not like I gave it away. It was stolen. I just- I want it back _now."_

"I'm afraid it doesn't work like that Blaine," Jo spoke very calmly. "You have to reclaim what was taken from you and it's not going to be easy. Hard work is part of the equation-"

"But I'm tired of it! Everything is hard work!" His voice rose. "Talking about it, just here like this, is hard work. Just trying to sleep is hard work because I know as soon as I close my eyes he'll be waiting for me. That doesn't even begin to take into account what he made me do before. Even though he'd force me to stay up until one or two in the morning I used to get up at six to make him coffee and breakfast so it'd be ready when he woke up. If it wasn't he'd beat the crap out of me. Usually afterwards, the breakfast I mean, or sometimes before if he wanted to 'work up an appetite', he'd make me sleep with him-"

"He'd rape you." It was merely a correction.

"He'd rape me," he amended, his timber and volume of his voice dropping already. His anger was already draining away to something much more wretched and miserable. "Then I'd clean. Then there was lunch and after that most days he'd rape me again. All I ever did was clean or work or try to please him and it was so hard. It was hard work and you know nothing ever came of it. He'd still hit me and he'd still rape me. Kurt was there for a bit, but he doesn't know the half of it. Pierre was positively tame towards me while Kurt was there. It only happened maybe once a day that week, sometimes a little more then, but before?" He swallowed the huge lump in his throat. "I don't know why. All I know is I'm tired. I'm exhausted. I don't want more hard work. I just want sleep."

There was a moment of heavy silence while Jo seemed to digest his words, before regarding him with a mixture of concern and sympathy.

"This isn't hard work for nothing Blaine. This is hard work that's going to help you learn to live in the world again- to feel some genuine control over your life and your body- to truly 'get out'." Jo looked at him seriously. "Can you look me in the eye and tell me you feel like you're out from under Pierre's thumb?"

With a slow movement he looked up and forced his eyes to look at the warm brown ones she'd fixed on him. He shook his head. "Honestly, no. I still don't feel safe. I still feel like he's going to come back for me."

"Would you like to try? Would you put in the work if making that feeling go away or happen much less often was a possibility?" She asked him in the same serious tone.

His voice shook tightly, "I think I'd do anything."

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><p><strong>AN:** Well there you have it. I'm hoping for chapter 37 to have a bit more on how Kurt's dealing with things. We've seen a bit through Blaine's eyes, but I want to dig into Kurt's brain a little more too. Of course a few of the coming chapters are going to be a bit more plot driven, whereas this one was most just character driven, but Blaine really needed his therapy session after what happened in the last chapter.

Also for those of you who may (or may not I don't know) get impatient with me and my slower than usual updates, I announce when I'm updating as soon as I know on my twitter. The handle's the same as my penname here.

Anyway I appreciate your reviews so much, so please leave me some .


	37. Chapter 37: Escape the Silence

****Warning: ****There are mentions of (non-graphic) non con and also mentions of suicide attempts/self-harm.

**A/N**: My absence has a lot of reasons/excuses, the main one being that real life got pretty complicated. I very suddenly lost the beloved uncle that partially inspired this story and for a long time didn't know what happened. I only found out a few weeks ago what really went on. I also lost my other uncle to the cancer I mentioned in one of my previous posts, so there's been a lot on my plate. I'll put a longer author's note at the end of the chapter to explain some more. I also want to warn you that this is going to be a short chapter, but there will be more coming in time.

So I just want to leave this as a reminder that in this story I ignored seasons 3 & 4 almost completely, so in TYL Burt never ran for Congress.

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><p>Chapter 37: Escape the Silence<p>

Kurt smiled shakily at Mrs. Anderson as they waited in the waiting room of Dr. Francis' office. His fingers were fidgeting in his lap as he tried to avoid the urge to drown out the silence with the music on his new iPhone. He didn't want to be rude, especially to Bianca who had always been so kind and loving towards him, but he desperately needed to escape the silence.

"Kurt, are you okay Sweetie?" She asked him, her head tilting ever so slightly as her eyes searched his.

He forced his smile to be a tiny bit bigger. "I'm fine."

She only frowned in response. "I don't believe you for a minute. All I've seen the past week or so is what a boy looks like when he's in pain. Do you really think I can't see it?"

Kurt sank back in his chair heavily and ran his hand through his hair with a sigh. "Maybe you can see it Bianca, but trust me when I tell you that you don't want to hear it. Nobody wants to hear it." He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples slowly. His head was throbbing from the pure effort it took to try to forget the sounds he'd heard what seemed like constantly during his week of captivity.

"Sweetie-"

"You're his mother," Kurt's voice was soft as he cut her off. "Trust me when I say you don't want to hear about the things I saw and heard there. It might destroy you. It almost did that to me."

Bianca just placed a well-manicured hand over Kurt's. "Okay so maybe talking to me isn't the best idea. We're both too close to it, but you need to talk to someone. If you'd be willing I could get you a referral to see Dr. Francis as well?" The words were tentative and careful, as if she instinctively knew the offer might damage his pride.

Kurt just shook his head slowly. "I don't have the money for that-"

"Kurt we love you. We'd be willing-"

He shook his head. "If it means that much to you that I talk to someone Bianca, I'll ask Carole to set me up with one of the hospital social workers covered under our insurance. I can't take your money. I can't."

"Sweetie, now that you're taking a year off you might not be covered under your parents' insurance anymore. Most insurance companies only cover minor and student dependents of their employees." Bianca stated, squeezing his hand a little. "You brought my son back to me and it cost you so much. I see it in your eyes Kurt. I see the same pain only worse in my baby's. My children, they're my life and you brought part of it back to me. It hurts though, knowing what that cost you and the least I can do is see to it that it doesn't cost you any more, emotionally or otherwise. You gave me my life back, or at least a huge part of it. It's the least I can do."

"I didn't do anything special." His face burned red as he ducked his head down. "I didn't do anything."

"You saved hi-"

"Have you read any of the reports?" Kurt asked her abruptly, watching as she almost immediately shook her head.

"I couldn't. I couldn't bear to know the details, not like that. You're right, it might destroy me," she answered him with a soft shake of her head.

"Well if you read the reports you'd know that it was Blaine who saved me-"

"That's not what he says." Bianca gave him a tender, nurturing smile. "He says you're the one who gave him the strength to stand up to that monster. You were there for him when the rest of us couldn't be… you don't think that saved his life?"

The redness in his face was creeping down his neck too, growing a little brighter in embarrassment. Everyone seemed to think that just by him being there that somehow he'd saved Blaine's life. "No, I don't." He sucked in a deep breath. "You need to give Blaine a little more credit than that. I gave him a push, that's it. Blaine saved himself. You have to give him credit for that. He saved us both. He was the one who was strong enough to break free of years of conditioning, the one who stood up to the man who'd been terrorizing and raping him to take back our freedom. I was on my knees waiting for that bastard to kill me. I didn't save anyone Bianca. I was saved."

"Blaine would have never called the police." The words were almost a whisper. "You did that. You got the police there and you reminded my baby that there were people out there who truly loved him. Those two things- they have to be what made my baby stand up to him. You gave him the chance to take back his freedom. Maybe you're right and you didn't save his life, but Kurt you did something so much better. You gave him the chance to save his own."

Kurt shifted his head down, shaking it slightly. "I don't think I believe that."

"Please." It was the shaking quality of her voice that got him to look at her again. "Let me do this for you Kurt. Let me do it for Blaine. Your happiness is a big part of his happiness, we both know that." She paused for a moment when he didn't immediately agree. "It might be hard for him to get better if he's worrying about you Kurt. Please, let me do this. You know you're my son now too?"

The thick lump in his throat went down painfully. "You're really making it hard for me to be stubborn here, you know that?"

A small grin slipped over her face, but her voice was still somewhat hoarse. "Where do you think Joey, Brianna, Blaine and the baby got their puppy dog eyes from? It certainly wasn't my husband."

He smiled weakly in return.

"So you're going to let me make an appointment, right?" She asked hopefully, her eyes peering at his again. "Kurt?"

He let out a long sigh. "I suppose I don't have a choice."

She patted his knee gently. "Not a one."

The sound of a door opening, followed by footsteps had his head craning to look down the little hallway. Blaine stared back at him and gave him a weak smile. It only took a few more steps until he was standing just a couple feet off from them. "Hey."

"Hey," Kurt gave a falsely cheery smile, "How'd it go?"

Blaine shrugged lightly, "Okay, I guess."

His red-rimmed eyes gave him away but Kurt and Bianca both chose not to comment. Instead Blaine's mother gave him an encouraging smile as they stood to get ready to leave.

* * *

><p>A few hours later Kurt was bent over a car, grease and oil marring his coveralls as music played from his portable speakers in the background. It was almost therapeutic in itself to be doing some manual labor despite his still aching ribs. He wouldn't admit it out loud to anyone except his father and maybe Blaine, but he'd kind of missed this. There was something about being elbow deep in a car's front hood. Plus his father was paying him well for his time.<p>

"Hey Kid," he started a little at his father's voice. "Sorry Kurt. I didn't mean to startle you." He paused for a moment, "I thought we agreed you'd just be doing paperwork?"

"It's fine. I'm fine," Kurt straightened himself up, wiping his hands on the coveralls to get off some of the grease. Despite that he missed the physical demands of the work, he definitely didn't miss the mess. He gave his father a weak smile as Burt turned the music down to a whisper. "I'm just a little jumpy still, that's all."

"Mrs. Anderson gave me a call," Burt told his son after a second's hesitation. "She wanted me to know she talked you into getting some counselling as well."

"She wouldn't take no for an answer," he tried a weak smile, already missing the distraction of the music's background noise. It was perfect for drowning out the thoughts and phantom noises in his mind.

"She's certainly a persistent woman," Burt agreed, returning the smile that was just a tad more genuine. "I've never liked the idea of accepting charity-"

"I don't think it's like that Dad-"

"Oh I know," he stopped his son softly. "She was sure to tell me. She wants you to consider it a thank you for what she says you did for Blaine."

"I didn't do anything." He let it out with a long sigh. It certainly didn't feel like he'd done anything particularly heroic, even if that's what everyone else seemed to think. In that week he and Blaine had just been struggling for survival, and for Blaine to wake up and see the truth of the situation. He'd just listened to the horror, unable to do much of anything to make it stop.

His father's eyes locked onto his for a long moment. "The Andersons and I all think you're selling yourself a bit short. No one's saying you single-handedly rescued Blaine or anything like that, but you're not seeing the situation clearly either. You're not 'just jumpy' either."

"I told her I'd go," he tried to turn back to the little Focus he was working on. "And I'm kind of working now Dad."

"As your boss I think you'll get away with a little conversation with your old man," Burt reminded him with a small smile. "Especially since you're not doing the work we agreed on."

He sucked in a deep breath and looked at his father wearily. "Do we have to do this now?"

"Depends, are you going to keep dodging me if I let it drop now?" There was a momentary pause. "Since you've been home you've either been in the garage or at the Anderson house. I know you want to help Blaine and be there for him, but it'd be nice if you'd let Carole and I be there for you too."

"I haven't been home that long," he protested softly.

"No, and almost all of that time has been spent at the Andersons." Burt took in a deep breath. "We thought we might lose you Kurt. The thought of it- Can you really blame me for wanting to keep you close for a little bit?"

He took a moment to take in the new lines that had creased his father's face. It seemed that in the few months that had passed between his last visit home and this whole mess that he'd aged considerably. As much as he wanted to stay glued to Blaine's side after so much time apart, it made sense that his father would want to keep him in his sights after his own kidnapping. "I didn't mean to be gone so much. I just-"

"Hey kid, I get it," Burt gave him a weak smile; "you want to make up for lost time. I'd just like you to be home a little more often, and maybe talk to us once in a while too."

Kurt nodded his head slowly. "I was invited over to the Anderson's for supper tonight, but maybe tomorrow we could make plans for some family time?" He paused for a moment, looking between the car and his father, "Unless you want to talk now?"

Burt grinned a little and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Don't think you're getting out of work that easily. Tomorrow sounds fine, Kurt. It'll be nice to hang out with my little boy-"

Kurt gave a little 'ahem', a small smile still forming on his lips.

"I guess that doesn't apply so much anymore, but you'll always be my little boy, whether you like it or not." Burt hugged his son briefly, but squeezed him tight to his chest when he did.

Kurt grimaced slightly, before his father let him go.

"Ribs still bothering you?" His father was studying his face carefully, no longer grinning. "You're supposed to be focusing on the paperwork. You know you don't have to start the rest until you're feeling a hundred percent. Me or one of the guys can finish off the Focus tomorrow."

"It's fine." He shrugged his shoulders.

"It's barely been a week, Kurt," Burt was shaking his head. "I should've known better."

"Dad, it's fine," he insisted softly. "They're not that bad, but if it makes you feel better I'll stop working under the hood. I'll work on the undercarriage, it's less bending."

His father narrowed his eyes a little at him suspiciously, before easing up. "Alright, but don't overwork yourself. The doctor did say you should be taking it easy." He paused for a moment, before adding sternly, "And no heavy lifting either. You're supposed to be on light duty." There was another short moment of silence, "I'd really rather you be working on some of the paperwork."

"I'll take it easy Dad, I promise," Kurt gave a false smile. It seemed like it hadn't been so long ago that he'd been pleading with his father to do the exact same thing. It was hard to believe it was only a few years ago and now their roles had reversed once again.

His father seemed to mull his promise over, determining whether or not to believe him. Finally some of the creases in his skin relaxed as Burt let out a little sigh. "I'll be holding you too that son. Try not to be too late getting home, alright? And sent me a text when you leave the shop."

"Dad…"

"I'm not trying to treat you like a kid. I'd just like to know where you are for a little while." His father swallowed hard before adding, "After everything it'll help me relax, that's all. I almost lost you."

He hugged him again briefly. "Okay Dad. I'll let you know where I'm going and check in, at least until things settle down." Kurt gave his dad a false smile. "But I'll be okay."

"I want you to be more than okay Kurt."

"I know Dad," Kurt murmured. "I know."

He watched his father reluctantly leave him alone in the garage, in the silence once again. He wiped his hands carefully on his coveralls and moved to turn up the music once again. Finally the beautiful distraction was back. Lately it seemed there was nothing more terrifying than silence.

He didn't see Pierre whenever he closed his eyes. Instead the silence would be louder than anything he'd ever heard, his heart would pound in his ears before the faint strains of Blaine's fearful cries would slip into his memory like it had never ended at all.

Kurt turned the music a little louder and turned his focus back to the car once again.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**:

This story was kind of inspired by my uncle B. He was a man who despite having suffered pain in his own childhood, always loved his family. It was heartbreaking to lose him and to know he took his own life after falling back into drugs. He'd call me 'me trout' (he's a Newfie) and always tell me I was the most beautiful girl in the world, that he loved me and would scare away any mean boys with his tattoos (unfortunately he passed before he could scare the meanest of them away).

The other reason I was gone for so long was being in a relationship that slowly stripped everything I really enjoyed doing from me, and that sadly included my writing. If my attention wasn't solely on him there'd be issues and I didn't even notice how bad it had gotten until the end. I don't know how I didn't see it for what it was, maybe because I was too deep in it. In the end I had to uproot my life, and am now staying with my Nan who doesn't have the Internet while I try to sort things out and get back on my feet. I hope you can forgive me for letting this story fall by the wayside. I'm trying to get back the things I love and that includes writing this story. I don't know when the next chapter will be, only that there will be one and so on until the story is completed. Please bear with me while I get my life back in order. I understand though if I lost some of you dear readers. It has been a long time.

I also want to take a brief moment to express my sadness at the loss we all suffered recently with the passing of our beloved Cory Monteith. He was a hero and a role model to us all. It's heartbreaking to know how hard he fought his demons and addiction and did his best to bring awareness to those issues only for us to lose him. I just hope he's up there somewhere knowing he made a difference in the short time he was here.


	38. Chapter 38: Piece by Piece

**Warning: **There are mentions of (non-graphic) non con and also mentions of suicide attempts/self-harm.

**A/N**: This was going to take longer because I wrote the rest of this chapter when I should have been sleeping since I worked the next morning, but my Nan was watching Dancing with the Stars (and me too) and she doesn't have the best hearing any more. Basically I wasn't getting any sleep anyway. I wanted to see Amber Riley win it and I wasn't disappointed! So I sat there with my laptop, watching and writing at the same time.

So another couple of months have passed and I finally feel like I'm stronger than I ever was before. I think it's time that I figure out a way for Blaine to have that too. I also wanted to say how overcome I was by all the lovely support I received in reviews and personal messages from you wonderful readers. Some of them brought me to tears, but I promise they were the good kind. Knowing there's so many people out there behind me gave me back a lot of my strength and helped me get back my self-confidence. You are all truly amazing. Thank you.

Anyway without any further ado, here is the next chapter.

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><p>Chapter 38 – Piece by Piece<p>

"Are you sure I can't help you with the dishes Bianca?" Kurt asked Mrs. Anderson as he eyed the pile of dishes that had been created in the feeding of eight people, even if one of them was only a baby.

"You're our guest Kurt," she smiled at him tenderly. "I can't have my guest doing the dishes."

Kurt gave her a sideways smile. "I thought I was family? Doesn't family take turns doing the dishes?"

"I'm just going to load them into the dishwasher for tonight dear. Leo can help me with the pots and pans. You go in the living room with the rest of them. I promise I'll let you help next time." She motioned with her hands for him to vacate the kitchen.

"That's what you said _last_ time," he reminded her, but let the woman shoo him into the living room anyway with a roll of his eyes.

Blaine, Brianna and Joey were sat around the coffee table, talking quietly and Kurt sank into a spot next to his tense looking boyfriend. "Is Ness putting the baby down?" He broke in quietly, noticing the way Blaine was looking away from his brother and how his knee was bouncing.

"Yeah, he's a cranky little feller when he's tired," Joey grinned fondly, his eyes veering to the stairs that led to the bedrooms. "We were thinking about watching a movie, but Blaine's not sure which one he wants to watch."

"Do I have to pick? If it came out in the last two years I probably haven't seen it anyway," Blaine muttered, sounding irritable. "I don't see the point in making me pick."

"You should pick it Blainers," Joey insisted quietly. "We all take turns picking movies and you've missed quite a few of yours so it just seems fair that you take this one."

"I don't even know what there is-." Blaine stopped and shook his head. "I barely had a choice in anything for two years; not when I ate or what I ate or what to watch on TV or even what I got to do with my own body. It wasn't even mine really. I just- can't you pick for me?"

"It's yours now. It was always yours-"

Everything that was building inside Blaine seemed to burst at once. It seemed ridiculous to think that after two years his body was suddenly his own again, or that it always was. It sure hadn't seemed that way.

"But it _isn't_ mine! Look at me! Look at me do I look like the same kid you knew two years ago? Did that kid have this ugly scar," he pointed to the gash down the side of his face. "Did he look like a cutter?" He gestured heavily to the arm wrapped in bandages and supported with a sling. He lifted his shirt and poked his stomach. To him it felt way too soft. He used to have abs and it wasn't about the vanity. It wasn't about vanity at all. "This isn't _my_ body. It's Pierre's. He made me like this; soft, thin, and _weak." _He pressed his hand over the healing cut on his face self-consciously and kept it there. "I was different before, don't you get it? It doesn't matter if I cut my hair or gel it or wear bow-ties or any of that ridiculous _shit_. I'm still not me."

"Then for God's sake take it back." Brianna looked shocked even as the words left her mouth and suddenly all eyes seemed to be on her. She softened her voice, "I'm sorry Blaine, but I mean it. Instead of complaining about it, why don't you do something about it? There's no one stopping you now but yourself."

"Like it's that easy-"

"I never said it'd be easy. I just said there's no one stopping you anymore," his sister's voice sharpened just slightly once again. "Maybe you can't get rid of the scars, but if you really miss having a hard stomach or being fit or whatever, go workout."

"I'll still be different," he shook his head, his eyes glaring at her. What had happened to the supportive Brianna he'd had in the hospital or in the Airport?

"We're all different, if you haven't noticed," she snapped, before checking herself once again. "I never used to have this short a fuse. Losing you did that to me Blaine. And no, you'll never be the same, but neither will the rest of us. I mean here we are getting all worked up over a freaking movie."

"Maybe," Kurt cut in softly, tentatively reaching to put his hand on Blaine's arm, "you should focus on a new you. You're both right, we're all different; especially you Blaine, but that doesn't mean you can't still be yourself. The best parts of you are still in there and the rest… well can't you use it to make yourself stronger? Isn't that the point of therapy in the first place?"

A bit of red flushed into Blaine's face, "Kurt-"

"I know your body still doesn't feel like your own, but you can take it back."

"I have to be fit for the force, Blainers. You can work out with me if that's what you want? We'll start out small and build our way up," Joey suggested after a moment. "It'll take some time, but maybe it'll help."

"I can't even sing," Blaine blurted out angrily. "If I still have all the best parts of me then-"

"It's still in you," Kurt cut him off softly. "It may not seem like it and you may not be able to right now, but it's still there Blaine. I know it is. You love music too much to ever lose it completely."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know you, Blaine. I know how strong you really are."

"I don't feel very strong right now," Blaine shook Kurt's hand off his arm. "I know you're all just trying to help, but you're just not. You don't know what it was like. You don't know me. You don't _know!_" He jerked up from the couch and stalked up the stairs to his room.

Part of him wanted to collapse on his bed, wrap his arms around his pillow and cry, but the other part- the other part was still raging. They thought they had changed? It was nothing compared to what he'd been through, the things he'd been forced to do.

He kicked the door hard, growling deep in his throat when it sent pain into his toes and foot. It hardly made him feel any better, but for just that tiny moment there had been an ounce of relief with the jolt of lancing pain.

There was a knock on the other side of the door. "Blaine?" Kurt's voice called through the door tentatively.

"Leave me alone!" He yelled back hoarsely.

"I'm not going to do that Blaine." Kurt's voice was soft and muffled through the door.

"Yeah neither would he-"

The door yanked open and Blaine was surprised. He hadn't actually expected the other boy to storm in. "Don't you dare. Don't you freaking dare compare me to him!" Kurt's voice wasn't loud, but it was furious. "No Blaine. None of us really know what it was like for you. He didn't get a chance to rape me so I don't really know either, but I know enough to know that I'm nothing like him. You're pissed and you're lashing out and that's fine, but don't you dare compare me to him."

Blaine glared right back at him. "I want to be left alone. Why is that so hard?"

"Because whether or not you like it, or you're not the same as before, I still know you." Kurt's voice softened but was still tight behind his gritted teeth. "You're not the same, but you're still you. And you know what- Brianna's got a point- why don't you take it back?"

"It's not that easy," Blaine ground out, sitting on his bed and crossing his arms.

"When did any of us ever say it would be?" Kurt sank onto the bed next to him, the anger draining from his voice. "You have every right to be angry about what happened to you. Hell I'm glad you're finally letting yourself be angry, but we're not the ones you should be angry with. All we want to do is help you."

"You don't get it," Blaine stood up again, putting some distance between himself and his boyfriend.

"Then help me to get it. What's going through your head Blaine? Maybe if you told me I could help, or- I don't know- Would you please just tell me?" Kurt was looking up at him, his eyes shining. There seemed to be no anger left in him.

Blaine couldn't say the same. There was still plenty of anger simmering inside him. "I don't want to be some new me." Blaine pulled his hand hard through his hair as he spoke. "I don't want these scars. I don't want to have to get back into the shape I was before. I don't want to be this scared, damaged kid that has to 'work hard' to get his life back. I want to be who I was before. I just want the last two years of my life _back_."

"We all want that Blaine," Kurt murmured quietly, watching as Blaine paced in front of the bed slowly. "We all wish this had never happened, but it doesn't work like that. We can't go back in time as much as we might want to."

"I know that," Blaine snapped, sitting down on the computer chair in front of his desk. "I just hate it. He made me into the person he wanted me to be. At first he basically starved me until I lost any muscle I might've had, living off whatever he didn't finish for months and keeping me weak so I couldn't fight back. Then he screwed up my head and threatened my family so I'd be too afraid to. I'm still the product of what he made me to be, a piece of goddamn clay he molded and shaped for his own twisted needs. Dr. Francis told me I'm more than what happened to me, but it doesn't feel that way at all."

"Blaine-"

"Why did it have to be me?" Blaine pressed his face into his hand. He'd never wanted it to happen to any other kid, but at the same time it felt like more than he could possibly handle. It felt selfish to even say the words, but he just couldn't help it.

"I don't know-"

He heard Kurt move so that the other boy was kneeling in front of him. "Kurt-"

"I know you don't want to have to be this person who's different from what he was before. I know you don't want to fight to take your life and your body back, but you don't want to stay like this either right?" Kurt's hands reached up and grasped the one he'd been hiding his face in so he could look in his eyes. "We can't go back in time and change what happened, but there are things you can take control of now. You don't have to be clay anymore Blaine. You can't get rid of the scars but you can build muscle back if that's what you really want. Nothing is going to change overnight but you can start to change it now. That's got to mean something, right?"

"I used to like working out," Blaine admitted slowly. The anger wasn't quite draining from his body; however he could see not only the logic behind Kurt's words, but the love and caring as well. "I guess what Joey suggested wasn't all that bad of an idea. We never really hung out before. We could get to know each other again. He's not the same brother I used to know."

"None of us are the same," Kurt agreed quietly. "We're all just learning how to move forward."

"Do you really think I'll be able to sing again?" He took in a deep breath. "Every time I try nothing comes out."

"I think you will. It's too big a part of you to be lost forever," Kurt squeezed his hand again softly. "You just have to keep trying and maybe talk about it with your therapist."

"I did, but maybe I should bring it up again."

"She might be able to help you figure out a game plan," Kurt nodded his agreement.

"Every time I try my body just shuts down and-" He shook his head , standing from the chair to pace again in hopes it might let out some of this nervous energy. Kurt followed him, taking his hand again and motioning to the bed.

He sank into it, not moving away this time when Kurt sat next to him. "You can tell me about it Blaine, if you want to."

"Maybe- I- I'll show you. Maybe- maybe it'll come back this time, but…" He paused for a moment, taking in another breath to prove his point and tried to sing a few words from an old tune, the first song Kurt had ever heard him sing. His body stiffened automatically and his tongue felt dry and thick as he choked on the words before they could flow from his mouth, coughing hard. It seemed like there would be no teenage dream for him.

"Easy," Kurt's hand was immediately rubbing his back comfortingly. "You don't have to try right now, but it'll come back eventually. Maybe it's just too soon."

"The pieces won't pick up themselves, will they?" Blaine leaned his head into Kurt's shoulder. There were no tears, but his chest felt heavy as Kurt's arm wrapped around his back gently. "It's got to be me. I have to do it myself."

"I think so, and even then they might not fit the same," Kurt murmured, the arm squeezing around him lightly, "but that doesn't mean you'll be doing it alone. We'll all help you as much as we can and as much as you'll let us."

He tried to breathe out the heaviness in his chest, only succeeding minutely. "I should probably go downstairs and apologize to everyone."

"I don't think anyone wants you to apologize, Blaine. They just want to be there for you and if you need to yell at them, or me for that matter, sometimes then that's fine. No one's going to blame you. We all just want to help." Kurt gave him a small smile. "Of course if you still want to you can go down and take Joey up on his offer.

Blaine feigned a smile of his own. "Yea, okay. I think I might like that." Maybe by starting to pick up the pieces he'd finally feel a little more in control. He rose to his feet and looked back at Kurt. "Let's go back downstairs."

He padded down the stairs with Kurt close behind him and tentatively stepped back into the living room. It was a little fuller than it had been. Vanessa had returned and was sitting next to her husband with a hand on his knee while his parents had taken over the loveseat.

Joey's head was resting in his hands.

"Sorry I freaked out on everyone," Blaine mumbled, feeling his face flush slightly. "I guess I overreacted a little bit."

Joey raised his head his face creased and tired looking. "No I'm sorry Blaine. I shouldn't have pushed so hard over a movie. You didn't want to pick- you didn't want to and I tried to make you. After everything- that's the last thing I should've done. I thought I was helping. I just didn't realize- I guess- that it would overwhelm you like that. I'm sorry Buddy, I really am."

"It's okay." Blaine found a spot to sit on the other couch and Kurt sank in next to him.

"No it's not, but thanks Blainers." Joey's voice was quiet and his brother gave him a strained smile.

"I thought about what you offered though," Blaine started carefully, trying to clear the thick nervousness in his throat, "about working out. Maybe I could try it and start picking up the pieces. I want to take a piece of myself back, as much as I can."

"If you want me to be your personal trainer Blaine, I'd be happy to." The strain in Joey's face seemed to ease away and his smile looked a little more genuine. "You picked the right guy. Just ask Ness, I have rock hard abs."

Blaine made a face as Vanessa punched her husband in the arm. "I'd rather not, thanks."

"So anyway, little brother," Joey picked up two different DVD's and showed them to Blaine, "we've narrowed it down to two. Which one looks better? There's no pressure if you can't decide. Bri's already volunteered to take your turn if you don't want it."

Picking between two movies seemed a lot easier than deciding among the large collection of movies his parents and siblings had amassed over several years of avid movie watching. He eyed the two covers and their titles. "Pitch Perfect looks kind of good."

"He would pick the one about a Capella," Brianna's voice was tinged with sarcasm that she eased with a grin. "I was actually going to pick that one anyway."

Blaine managed a small smile. Maybe one day he'd be able to do more than just watch it in a movie. Kurt certainly seemed to think so. He just had to take one small step at a time, piece by piece.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: So I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter. I want to stay realistic in the timing of his healing process but at the same time I wanted to give the poor boy a bit of hope. I hope I portrayed that in a believable way and if you'd be so kind to send me a little feedback that would be wonderful. While I somewhat have an idea of how I'm going to write the rest of this story (it's vague but it's there) I always want to take into account any of your suggestions because a lot of the time it's like you're in my head but two steps ahead of me, or it gives me inspiration for a scene that will eventually turn into a chapter.

So yeah, I have a tentative plan to get to the end of this story that has taken me over two years to write. I'd started writing this almost seven months before I ever thought about posting it, so it's been a real project for me. I think a part of me is afraid to let it end. Not only has this story one of my greatest/longest literary undertakings, but it's really grown to be special to me and has helped me through some of my own demons. I only hope you all have enjoyed reading it as much as I've been enjoying writing it. No it's not done yet, but knowing that I have a plan means the end is in sight so these things have been on my mind.


	39. Chapter 39: Flashback

**A/N:** It's been another long delay, a little over a year in fact. I don't think I'll ever end up back on a regular schedule but I do plan on finishing this story however long that takes and I hope that there's never another delay quite this long. I am not one to give up, plus this story just means too much to me, as do you dear readers. I had to take a back seat for while with this story for a very specific reason which still makes my heart tighten and my hands shake when I think about telling people. However I'm going to tell you, so at the end of this chapter is going to be a fairly extensive author's note that was very painful to write. However it's the chapter you have been waiting for, not the note, so here it is.

* * *

><p>Chapter 39: Flashback?<p>

The sun was beating down on his face but he didn't care. His mother had already chastised him about sunscreen and he'd slathered some on, but he certainly wasn't about to go inside. Walls were confining even if they were filled with people that loved him. Being outside, being allowed outside whenever he wanted and without an escort; it was liberating.

"Baby, I'm going to the store, do you want to come?" He heard his mother's voice from the kitchen window.

"No I'm okay," he called back softly.

"Are you sure?" She asked, sounding a little concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine Mom," he told her, turning towards the window and giving her a weak smile.

His mother hesitated for a moment before closing the window. He frowned to himself for a moment. Brianna was at school and his father was at the office. He'd told everyone to try and get back into their normal routines; that he didn't want to be a burden. All the same one member of his family had stayed home with him since his return, usually his mother. Despite his insistence she'd taken a leave of absence from work for a few weeks, swearing to him it was just to help him settle into a semi-normal routine.

He'd meant it when he said he wanted them to get back to normal. He wanted to get back to normal too, but he didn't want to be alone either. He'd been secretly glad his mother had insisted on taking her leave. Now, if his mother left it would mean he'd be alone in the house for the first time since he'd gotten back.

He stood up and jogged towards the back door just in time to hear the front one slam shut. "Mom?" There was the sound of the car starting in the driveway and he tore through the house, leaving the back door wide open and ignoring every ache and pain in his body.

What had he been thinking? He couldn't be alone in this house. Whenever he was alone the memory of Pierre would haunt him. Sometimes even when he wasn't alone he could swear he'd seen him lurking around the house watching him even if all he saw was a flash of those same blue eyes.

He ripped the door open to see his mother's car halfway down the street, before slowly closing it again with a thick swallow. He moved over to the living room and sank down in the couch, bringing his legs up onto the cushions with him.

All of a sudden he was wishing Kurt didn't have to work so much or he could have just called him to stay with him. He was sure the other boy would drop whatever he was doing, but he didn't want to keep imposing on him so much. He could always call his dad, but he didn't want to bother him either. It felt like no matter what he did he was becoming a burden to his loved ones and that was the last thing he wanted.

He didn't want to give them any reason not to want him around. With Pierre that would have meant death and while he knew it wasn't like that here he still wanted to impose as little as possible on his family. He loved them and it seemed like they were always doing everything for him. It just didn't seem fair that they did so much and he did so little.

The back door blew shut with a slam and he started, his head snapping up in fear before he remembered that he'd been the one to leave it open. He chastised himself for a moment for being so careless before carefully moving from the couch to grab a snack.

He hesitated before reaching for the fridge. His parents had told him over and over again to snack whenever he was hungry, but it still took him a second longer for him to grip the handle than it would have taken his sister.

"I can eat whenever I want," he reminded himself out loud in a whisper.

"Is that so?" A deadly familiar voice asked and he whipped around.

There was a man standing in his kitchen with a cap tamping down blond hair and hiding part of his face.

"G-g-go a-away," he stuttered out, shaking his head. Almost against his will his feet were moving backwards, drawing him closer to the wall and away from what had to be an apparition his traumatized mind was imagining. There was no other way the form of his tormentor could be there. "This isn't happening. G-go."

Even as he moved back the figure loomed on him, the footsteps heavy and intimidating. "I can't do that Blaine. We have some unfinished business-"

In the distance he could hear a car engine pulling into the driveway, but his mind was focused on the figure before him. The words were a rapid paced panic, "This isn't happening. It can't be. It's all in my head. You- you're dead!" He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head as if he could clear the man's sight from his vision that way. There were quieter footsteps, this time drawing away. "You're not really here-" He opened his eyes only to see that there was nothing there.

A long shuddering breath escaped his throat. His mind had only been playing tricks on him, making him hear and see things that weren't really there. It had to be. Sure he'd heard footsteps and the apparition had smelt of the same cheap cologne that Pierre had worn, but Jo had said the flashbacks could trigger all of his senses, olfactory and otherwise. Nonetheless it made him want to be alone even less.

He heard the sound of the wind blowing the door shut again and he whirled around again, seeing something flash by the window next to it. His entire body tensed. It had just been an apparition, a flashback- an expected, remarkably vivid, response after his trauma, hadn't it?

Blaine ran at the backdoor, flicking the lock on the deadbolt. He turned and pressed his back against the door, breathing heavily. It had been so much clearer this time and he was almost positive he hadn't opened the door since it had slammed shut the first time.

Except Pierre was dead; it couldn't have been him.

He sank against the door and took in a few deep breaths. It was nothing.

His head jerked up when he heard the front doorknob jiggle and open, still clutching the mostly forgotten apple in his hand, his nails slicing into the flesh of its peel.

"Anyone home? Mom? Blaine?" His brother's voice called into the house and Blaine felt relief start to trickle through his body. His fingers loosened around the fruit and it tumbled, bruised and indented, from them.

"Joey?" He croaked, scrambling to his feet and clearing his throat as he went to meet his brother in the front porch.

"Hey Buddy. You alone?" Joey was carrying a large box in his arms, kneeling to set it down on the floor.

"I think so," he shakily looked around the parts of the house that he could see.

His brother frowned, a hand resting over the bulge on his belt underneath his shirt. "What happened? Where's Mom?"

"She went to the store. I told her I'd be fine but…" Blaine's eyes were staring at his brother's hand on what he could only guess was his service weapon. "Joey?"

"Did something happen?" Joey asked again, looking at him seriously.

"Flashback, I think." Blaine shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "I thought I saw him and the wind kept making the door slam. It was nothing. It had to be. I'm just- Jo- Dr. Francis says flashbacks are normal. It was just-," he shuddered despite his attempt hold steady, "so vivid."

"The door was open?" His brother's eyes started to survey the room they were in.

"I left it open when Mom left. I changed my mind about staying here alone and was trying to catch her," he explained as Joey stationed himself in front of him. "Joey it was nothing."

"Forgive me Blaine, but since you were alone I don't want to take any chances. Just- stay right behind me okay? I'm going to search the house."

"But Pierre's dead-"

"I know Blaine, but that doesn't mean someone else didn't break in," Joey told him firmly. "Just let me do this."

"O-okay," he followed closely behind his brother, watching as Joey methodically went through all the rooms of the house with his hand resting on the now open holster of his gun. Somehow he hadn't truly seen just how much his kidnapping had affected not only him but the rest of his family as well.

It was only when they checked the last bedroom and returned downstairs that Joey's hand slowly slid away from his belt and he let out a sigh. "Alright, there's no one here. I guess I'm just scared someone might try to hurt my little brother again." He took another deep breath. "You okay Buddy?"

"I'm sorry," Blaine said instead. His little flashback had made his brother worry needlessly. "I feel like I'm going crazy, seeing dead people."

"Don't be sorry. You just told me the doctor said it's normal," his brother draped an arm around his shoulder. "Now I'm going to make a quick phone call and then why don't we move some of this baby stuff I brought over upstairs to B.B.'s new room? There's furniture's up there, but nothing's set up. The moves coming up soon and then you're going to have to put up with me full-time."

Blaine feigned a small smile. "Alright."

"It's work related so," Joey made a gentle shooing motion, "I'm going to need a little privacy. Why don't you meet me upstairs?"

Joey waited until Blaine was well out of earshot before he reached for his phone, dialing before he pressed it to his ear. "Matt, you got eyes on LaMontone?"

At the thick swallow that he heard audibly over the phone his body tensed. "Joe I lost him about twenty minutes ago, but I just caught sight of him again few moments ago. Why did something happen?"

"Where?" His hand tightened over the phone.

"About two blocks from your parents' house. Joe is everything okay?"

"Blaine heard doors slamming and thought he saw the bastard that kidnapped him in a flashback-"

"Only it wasn't a flashback?"

"Well I was hoping you'd say you had eyes on him all day and that's all it was. Now I'm not so sure. They do look awfully alike. It wouldn't be hard for Blaine to mistake the two if he only caught a glance of him." Joey's eyes flickered to the stairs, trying to make sure his little brother wasn't listening in. "If he got into the house today to scare Blaine-"

"Do you really think Marc LaMontone would settle for scaring him? If he was really in the house with Blaine alone don't you think he would've acted?" Matt asked him. "Maybe it really was a flashback."

"Unless I scared him away," He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat the moment he'd seen the petrified look on his brother's face. "I hope you're right Matt," Joey sucked in another deep breath. "Just do me a favor and keep an eye on him?"

"I will Joe." Matt was silent for a long time, just breathing over the phone for a moment. "I won't lose him again."

Joey took a third settling breath, "Okay, call me later with an update."

"Right."

He swiped his finger across his phone screen, terminating the call as he looked up towards the staircase Blaine had just gone up moments before. There was a band tightening around his chest and it seemed to be trying to tell him that what his brother had experienced had been no flashback. He couldn't be sure, but as his hands tightened into fists he wasn't sure he cared.

Marc LaMontone had been somehow involved in his brother's kidnapping and that was enough to heat the blood in his veins up to a boil.

"Joey?" Blaine's voice was distant, fading in from up the stairs, "You coming?"

"Just a sec, I'm still on the phone," he called back the lie, trying to relax his body before heading up to join his younger brother. After everything Blaine had gone through it didn't seem fair to subject his emotions on him. Knowing his brother Blaine would pick up on his tensed muscles and creased face.

He didn't need to give Blaine any new reasons to worry. It was better that Blaine think it was a flashback; it was better for his healing process. It had to be.

With a deep cleansing exhale he let his hands relax and reached down to grab the box filled with B.B.'s toys and his mobile. He was going to do whatever it took for his brother to feel safe and at home enough to heal from the tribulations he'd suffered. If it meant acting like everything was okay even when it might not be, then he'd do it. Then, he'd make it okay, no matter what it took.

Marc LaMontone was not going to hurt his little brother.

Shifting the box in his arms and putting a smile on his face he followed the path Blaine had taken up the stairs. "Sorry to make you wait buddy."

"It's okay," his brother gave him a fractured smile, the tension in the younger man's muscles easily apparent.

"We can do this later if you want," Joey placed the box down on the spiced maple flooring, concern creasing his face. "You still seem kind of shaken."

Blaine pulled his lower lip between his teeth, nervously chewing. "I'm fine, Joey; really I am. It was all in my head-"

"That doesn't make it any less traumatic for you-"

"Please," Joey stopped when he heard the strain in his little brother's voice, "can we just pretend everything is normal; just for a little while? I just want to pretend none of it happened, just for a little bit. Let's just act like it never happened, like we're just a regular pair of brothers setting up your son's new room. I don't- I can't think about it every second. I need a break from all of it."

"I don't know if that's the best idea Blainers-" he started softly, but Blaine cut him off again.

"Not forever," Blaine clarified, and Joey could see his brother's Adam's apple bob up and down before he continued. "I know I can't pretend it never happened, not really. I just need a little bit of normal, please."

His eyes searched out Blaine's, before he crouched down by the box he'd just brought up and pulled out the diaper genie. "Where should we put this?"

The tension that drained from Blaine was visible as his muscles loosened and a slight smile grew over his lips. "I'd say next to wherever you want to put the changing table is your best bet."

With a laugh and wry smile Joey rolled his eyes, "Smart ass."

"Shouldn't we set up the crib first anyway? Where would Vanessa want it do you think?" Blaine asked, his voice slightly less shaky than before. "She's probably going to have an opinion."

"Yeah," Joey grimaced a little. "I figured we'd just assemble it all and set it up. Once she gets here I'll have to move it all around anyway. She says I'm not the best decorator. I'm just glad she's not pregnant anymore. Last time I set up B.B.'s nursery I had to change everything around at least four times. Pregnancy hormones are a scary thing Blainers, let me tell you."

"Just don't let her hear you telling me," he joked softly, pulling out a sheet of paper containing the instructions for setting up his nephew's crib.

"We don't need that Buddy. I've done this once before-"

"Like the book shelf you tried to set up for Mom when I was fourteen? Doesn't still wobble? I'm pretty sure I put something on there yesterday and the whole thing shifted." Blaine raised an eyebrow and let out a small grin, relishing the feeling of just hanging out with his older brother. It made everything else seem so far away, like if he could just keep his mind busy then everything would be okay.

"It's still standing, might I remind you," Joey laughed and shook his head. "Alright, we'll do it your way, but you're in charge of the instructions. I hate reading those damn things. I swear it's all French to me."

Blaine smoothed out the paper against the floor, eyeing the diagrams for a long minute. "It all looks pretty straight forward to me."

"I repeat, smart ass."

Blaine swallowed, trying to keep his smile. Keeping his mind busy was one thing, but everything seemed to remind of Pierre. It didn't matter that he'd never called him a smart ass, he was rather more prone to pointing out how stupid he considering him to be.

He breathed, trying to focus his attentions once again. Pierre was gone. He wasn't controlling his life anymore. He had a chance now to be his own person again. He just had to figure out exactly who that person was.

All he wanted right now was to be Joey's little brother, helping him set up his nephew's nursery.

"Blainers, what are you muttering to yourself?" Joey's voice broke in softly.

"What?" Had he really been speaking out loud?

"You were muttering something under your breath," his brother's voice wasn't angry, but tempered with concern. "Something bothering you?"

Blaine blinked at him dumbly.

"Yeah that sounded pretty stupid to me too. Of course something's bothering you. I meant- well you know what I meant, right?" Joey reached to scratch behind his neck awkwardly, like he didn't know how to act around him, around this new and different Blaine that had come home to them. "I know you said you wanted to pretend for a little bit, but it's not working, is it?"

Slowly he shook his head.

"Then let's not pretend. How about we just take it one step at a time, kind of like building this crib? I know there are no instructions for this, but we'll figure it out."

"Even if it wobbles a bit," Blaine gave a whisper of a smile. "That sounds alright."

* * *

><p><strong>AN**:

So this is the author's note I mentioned in the beginning, feel free to skip it if you wish but I feel as if I have to write it anyway. It may be one of the most painful and freeing things I ever write.

I was never going to put it out there the real reason why this story was so hard for me to finish. It is very personal and to me, still very raw. I'm going to repeat that if you're not interested in my personal life than you can skip it. I won't be upset. I almost hope you will, because admitting this to you, my readers, or anyone, is not an easy thing. As a matter of fact I only told my sister two days ago. I just feel like it needs to be out there. I suppose I'm writing it more for my own sake than anything else.

As you may know from my previous author's notes that around the time my (unofficial) hiatus began that I was getting out a bad relationship. I tried to continue writing this but I was having panic attacks and just a loss of what to do in the case of healing Blaine. The thing is, my bad relationship, it was more than that. It was abusive, emotionally and verbally and I am absolutely sure that if I hadn't gotten out when I did that physical abuse would've followed. I was always afraid and because I was always afraid I did things that I never would have done otherwise. When it came to physical intimacy I always set specific boundaries beforehand because I was/am inexperienced and didn't want to move too quickly. This is difficult for me to come out and say because I feel like I should have known (especially with the research that I did in writing this particular story) that the things he was doing to get me to submit to his wants despite my personal reservations were not okay. Yet it all still happened and afterwards, when I mentioned my discomfort (to put it mildly but being mild was the only way to circumvent his anger) I was told it was my fault. I did not say no. I said beforehand what I was comfortable with and what I wasn't, but during I did not say no because I was afraid. I was afraid to get screamed at for not 'trusting him', that he would leave me. I apologized, to the perpetrator, for my own rape. That fact has been screwing with my head ever since I realized that's what had been done to me and what I'd had to say in return. I have been struggling with this for the past year and a half, wondering how I could possibly write the healing process for another when I could not even heal myself. I am in counselling now myself (albeit a little late) and I am working on it. I've come to realize something in the last few weeks: I'm not going to get over this overnight. It's been nearly two years and it _still_ crawls at my insides. My goal now is to try and use what happened to make me stronger, to make me braver, more willing to fight for what I deserve and to not be ashamed. I deserved better. I know that. It's just that talking about what made me realize that is still utterly painful.

I'd write more, but I think I'm going to save those emotions and realizations for Blaine because I do plan to continue writing Blaine's healing process, but I've realized it can't be as fleshed out as I'd originally planned because then the story would never have a satisfactory conclusion. Instead I have a little something different in mind. It will still be in depth and it will still be detailed. I actually feel it will be more true to the process because it's going to take _time. _I don't want to give it all away now, but I think you'll understand as I continue to write.

I still don't have a schedule. I can't make any promises except that I'm not giving up. I'm never giving up.


End file.
